Oceanside: The 10th Hunger Games
by tracelynn
Summary: The 10th Hunger Games is right around the corner, and the citizens of Panem await it, frightened and intrigued. The 24 tributes will be selected and placed in a beautiful yet abandoned oceanside resort. What will become of the tributes? SYOT CLOSED (Completed)
1. Prologue

Aenea Chariton stood, imposing and cold, staring at the polished oak door. President Gaius Snow waited on the other side, eager to see her plans for this year's Hunger Games, the tenth installation in the brutal series.

Her assistant, Prima, had her hands wrapped firmly around the handle of the iron cart. On top was a projector, which would create a 3D image of the arena. Already, construction on it had begun, but President Snow could cancel the project with the wave of his hand. Aenea was intent on impressing President Snow this year. It was only her third year; three years ago, the previous Head Gamemaker, Cicero Avitsio, retired to care of his growing children.

The door opened, and the pale face of the President's personal adviser appeared in the door.

"He is ready to see you," the man, a tall, rail thin creature, murmured. He stepped away from the door, making room for them to enter.

President Snow stood when they entered.

"I am intrigued to see what you have contrived this year, Aenea," President Gaius Snow mused. "I have heard whispers of oceans and islands, but nothing more."

In response, Prima flicked on the projector. In minutes, a 4 foot by 4 foot hologram of the arena floated in the room.

"The arena is indeed on an island, surrounded by the sea," Aenea declared. The centerpiece of the island is an abandoned resort, a place where people in a time before Panem left work to go relax and enjoy their lives. The area is decrepit and beautiful, perfect for a Games," Aenea said.

Prima zoomed in on a spot in the map as Aenea continued to speak.

"Here is the large hotel, with broken windows and abandoned rooms. There are three large pools, numerous smaller ones, several dozen bars and eateries, and a tennis court. There are vast areas of dunes, as well as thick jungle on the northern and southern ends of the island."

"Do you think that the island is too small? The Games may end quickly if the tributes are confined as so," the President inquired.

"We are adding several smaller islands, easy to swim or wade to. They will be abundant with food and other supplies, as to draw tributes to them."

"And the Cornucopia?"

"Being built as we speak, right here," Aenea said, pointing to a spot near the decrepit resort, separated from it by some sand dunes.

"Perfect. I am impressed, Aenea," the President said. Aenea hid a prideful smile. "Get to work. The Reapings are in four months, the Games not soon after. The arena must be as flawless as always."

"Of course, President Snow," Aenea said, bowing. Prima also bowed and shut off the projector, and the pair left the office of the President.

"That went better than expected," Prima murmured as they left.

"Yes. Too easy," Aenea muttered, a little confused, as she and Prima left behind the President's mansion.

...

 **A/N: Hello there! My name is Tracee, and this author's note has been written the day after I completed this SYOT.**

 **I will be honest. I started this story never having written fanfiction before, and not being as great as I writer as I am now. I was inexperienced, and that is why many of the early chapters are short and disjointed. The Reapings are not my best work, not by a longshot, so if you find them hideous, I agree with you. But I'm not fixing them. I like how the story shows my progression of maturing as a writer, and getting more experienced.**

 **Not that any of this is bad. A great deal of people loved this story, even the parts I thought were terrible. By the time you get to the Games chapters, however, the story really starts to hit its stride, and becomes better. The farther we got into the Games, the better the writing got and the more exciting the Games became. The climax, the finale, was beautiful, and this story really culminated at the end well.**

 **I am now an old, hardened SYOT writer looking back at their first chapter, and I have to say I'm surprised I got as many submissions as I did.**

 **If you're just finding this story now, go ahead and enjoy it. It's one of the few completed SYOTs out there these days. I hope you love it as much as I do. While I'll be moving on to bigger and better things, and my other SYOTs will surely be just as great, probably better, Oceanside will always hold a special place in my heart, along with all of her characters. It brought tears to my eyes to write the finale, and this story is one of the most emotional at the end that I've ever written.**

 **Ignore my rambling. I feel like an elderly writer now. XD Sorry for that. Go ahead. Read. Enjoy. Root for your favorite. Cry when they die or emerge Victorious. Drop a review. I'll always be happy to hear what people have to say about this lovely story.**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Tracee**


	2. Burlap, Andrea, & Bianca's Reapings

A/N: This chapter is about the POVs of male tribute from 8 and the female tributes from 9 and 10 at their Reapings. (I may also add in some more tributes under my name as Bloodbath tributes that won't make it far; Burlap may be my one tribute that I let make it farther but I have yet to decide. Keep those submissions coming in!)

POV: Burlap Thomasson, District 8

My fingers trace the perfect seams of my old, dusty suit coat as my mother pulls out my faded dress pants. My mother's nimble, thin fingers sewed the seams perfectly, like she sews the millions of seams on the shirts and pants at her work in the factory. I am 17; I also work alongside here, but I cart finished pieces of clothing to the packaging line. It's a pretty good gig; no bleeding from sewing, no cuts from the sharp, rusty metal looms the Capitol provides for us. My cousin Hennley died from tetanus when I was eight after slicing him palm on one of the old metal looms. His scraggly headstone barely stands in my aunt's tiny backyard plot of mud.

My mother unfolds the navy dress pants and throws them at me before pulling back the curtain that cuts the room in half. The other side is my sisters' communal bedroom; this side is mine. I watch as she pulls out two lacy dresses, one coral, one baby blue, and pulls the curtain closed to hide my sisters as they change.

I slip on the dress pants and use a comb to tame my wild sandy blonde hair. By the time my hair is matted down, my sisters are ready. Flannelette is wearing the coral dress; Chiffon is wearing the baby blue one. My mother wears her day-to-day black dress, taking away her stained canvas apron. My four member family is assembled and ready for departure.

As we leave our small, two room apartment, I look up at the picture suspended over the door. My father's picture. He was hung after stealing vaccinations for me and my sisters when we were infants. I walk out the door, holding it open for my sisters and mother.

We file into the street and follow the flow of people to the District center, a large open space with flags of every type of fabric, representing the seal of Panem and the seal of District 8, surrounding it. I watch Chiffon, 15, and Flannelette, 18, step away from me, over to the girl's line. I step up to the table where the man sits, recording the boys in attendance.

"Name?" he asks sharply.

"Burlap Richard Thomasson, with two S's," I say. He prints down my name, the rudely pricks my finger without warning and smears my blood on the sheet next to my name. A Peacekeeper escorts me and a fellow 17 year old named Scott to the 17 year old male pen. We stand there sweating profusely, as our escort, named Molly or Polly, I can never remember, takes the stage. She plays the clip about the Dark Days and gives the same old tired spiel. Then, she flips a coin. It is heads. Boys are going first this year.

Her hand fishes around the bowl, and she plucks out a slip.

"Burlap Thomasson," she calls out loudly. Dumbfounded, I stagger up to the stage.

I have been reaped. Damn. I have been reaped.

...

POV: Andrea Matches, District 9

Greta starts banging together two pots to wake us up. I groan, rolling out of the bed I share with my sister, Mia.

I look up at the stupid woman who invaded our home, took my father, and is now pregnant with his child. Well, at least supposedly. Greta has quite a history; the child could be anyone's, but my father is convinced it is his.

"Don, where's their dresses?" Greta yells to my father, who is eating at the table on the other side of our small, one room apartment.

"We sold them for food last month, Grettie," he yells back. "They'll have to go in their school uniforms."

I can't help but glare at Greta and my father as Mia and I change into our ratty school uniforms. I am usually happy and upbeat, but I can't believe that we have to go to the Reaping without something nice to wear. But, on the bright side, at least the dresses went towards buying us all food.

Mia helps braid my frizzy blonde hair, which goes well with my green eyes. I in turn braid her mousy brown hair into two thick plaits.

My father pours a small bowl of gruel for both Mia and I. We slurp it up, and then the four of us walk out the door.

Once we arrive at the city square, I spot my mother. She has come to watch. My father left her for Greta and took us with him; if we stayed with my mother, we would starve, so we had no choice.

"Natalia," my father says as we walk past. She ignores him, staring at the ground, though she does shoot a dirty glare at Greta.

I walk over to the table were the kids sign in with Mia. They take Mia's blood and then send her off to the 14 year old pen. Then I am up.

"Name?"

"Andrea Matches."

She writes down my name then kindly pricks my finger, letting the small bead of blood on the pad of my finger splatter onto the paper nicely. She gives me a scrap of cotton to press to the wound as she instructs me to head of to the 16 year old pen.

I stand there, and over in the 17 year old male pen I spot my best friend, Barley. He lives on the streets, but he's come to be a good friend. I think of all our long days playing in the grain fields, the place I love to hang around most, avoiding Peacekeepers and enjoying the only nature in our industrialized District.

My hand plays with the silver bracelet he stole for me. Mia always teases me about how we could get married. Recently I've been thinking about it. We could have a home together, have kids...

I've zoned out, and I look up to see our District's escort pluck a slip from the ball.

"Andrea Matches."

And I begin to cry as my eyes meet with Barley's, and I realize that the future I've just imagined will never, ever happen.

...

Bianca Catalano, District 10

I wake up. My mother and father are already getting a few minutes of work in while me and my siblings wake up. They are tailors, and I will be a tailor one day as well. They train me in the art every day after school.

My older sister, Sofia, has survived all her Reapings; she is 19, ready to marry her fiance Raphael. My younger brother, Diego, is 12. This will be his first Reaping. I am 15, and this will be my 4th Reaping.

My parents abandon their work and dress us in exquisite dress clothes. My family is rich, at least by District 10 standards, and I don't mind telling people that. My father says I should be proud of my heritage, so I am. A lot of people call me arrogant, but it doesn't matter; I can beat them up in a fight or ruin their life with a few harsh sentences. I don't need to care about what everyone else thinks. Their money-less, poor lives with amount to nothing.

My family leaves our nicely sized home and arrives at the city square in seconds; our tailor shop and home are right on the square. The person behind the table asks my name.

"Bianca Lucia Catalano," I tell them.

"I'm going to prick your finger," the woman says, seemingly bored. She takes my blood and pushes my finger against the paper, and then shoos me to the 15 year old pen.

I find my best and probably only friend, Eleanor Aurora. Elie has known me since birth (her family's bakery is right next to our tailor shop), and we get along well. I hold her hand, feeling a little nervous, as the escort takes the stage and rambles on and on. Eventually she gets through her tiring speech and picks a girl's slip.

"Bianca Catalano," she calls out.

Eleanor's hand falls from mine as I whimper in shock. No. My life was supposed to be good. I would marry the mayor's son, who has a thing for me, and I would be possibly the richest and best person in District 10. My life was set up. Now it will be destroyed by the wretched Games.

I march onto the stage, fury blazing within me.

I will show them. I will try to win, and become even more famous than a mayor's wife could ever be.

...

Hope you enjoyed the first three Reapings! Other Reapings will be posted once I get more submissions. Keep them coming in! Did you like any particular character? Any character or Reaping annoy you? Comment and review!


	3. Natalia, Serephina & Bison's Reapings

A/N: This chapter is about the females from Districts 1 and 2 and the male from District 10. The District 10 male is purely a bloodbath tribute created so I can post a new chapter, but I still tried writing his chapter well!

...

POV: Natalia General, District 1

I wake up to the sound of my twin sisters, Nadia and Alice, bawling from their crib. My parents shush them, calming them. They were accidental, but my parents treat me like the accident. They are only a year old; I am 17.

I pull out my lacy white Reaping dress out of the closet and head into the bathroom, where I curl my glossy honey brown hair. My mother walks in, holding Nadia close to her chest, as she helps me comb out a few snags in my hair. After I apply some blush to my cheeks and mascara to my lashes, I walk out. My father and mother are dressing the twins in little dresses, and they are already dressed up. I grab a little breakfast as my parents finish getting the twins ready. Then we walk out the door and march down the street to the town square.

Halfway there, I spot my best friend, Velvet Sanarra. I hold her pale hand in mine to help calm my nerves. I can only hope that if I am Reaped, someone will volunteer for me. Last year, there was a girl who called herself a "Career." It means she secretly trained for the Games. She made it to the final four and slaughtered at least six people. I can only hope there is a Career this year willing to take the place of anyone Reaped.

"We'll be okay, Natalia," Velvet says, consoling me. I nod, squeezing her hand. Her father calls her over, and she departs, leaving me to walk alone as my parents fuss with the twins.

We arrived at the square. Everyone here was dressed to the nines. While my family was not poor, we were not rich for our District. Most women and girls wore extravagant dresses mimicking those of Capitol citizens, and the males were sharp and proper. We were a mini-Capitol. We were nothing like most of the Districts, where people pulled tattered suits and dusty, moth eaten dresses on just to watch another child be sentenced to death. The Reaping was almost a fashion show, a place to show off to the entire District. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

I stood in line soon enough, behind a tall girl with a mink dress that kept brushing uncomfortably against my right elbow. Eventually I reach the end of the line. I tell them that my name is Natalia General and that I am 17. They take a prick of blood and put it on paper before a stiff Peacekeeper escorts me to the 17 year old girl pen.

I find Velvet, and we hold hands. Something feels different about Velvet. I look into her eyes, and I see some feeling there. Feeling for me.

And just then, I hear the name of the first chosen echoing thru the square.

"Velvet Sanarra."

"I volunteer!" I scream. Everyone looks at me, incredulous. I can see my mother begin to weep as I walk onto the stage. I feel something beating inside me.

Something beating for the look Velvet gave me before her name was called.

I might love her.

...

POV: Serephina Manchas, District 2

In other homes around my District, parents are waking their children, telling them to get ready for the Reaping. In my house, all of us are already awake. Jewel sits on the granite kitchen counter, her butter yellow dress splayed around her. My mother adjusts her flowery blouse while my dad tightens his tie. And I emerge from my room, absolutely breathtaking.

My waist length blonde hair, thick and wavy, has been combed and cleaned until it is as soft and smooth as silk. My big, bright blue eyes are outlined by thick black mascara and teal eye shadow, and my cheeks are covered in blush. My nails are neatly clipped and painted cream. My dress is made of interlocking strips of light blue, white, and gray, wrapping around my curvy figure nicely. My feet are encased in white sandals with straps over the tops of my feet; the clasps are golden. I look like a goddess, and deity, a ruler.

"You look beautiful," my mother whispers. Her own blonde hair is trimmed short so it can fit underneath her Peacekeeper helmet. My father's head is shaved; he also is a Peacekeeper, and he agrees that having lots of hair in the stuffy helmets is direly uncomfortable.

"I'm so excited for you, Serephina," Jewel whispers when my parents leave the room. She's the only one I've confided in.

I've been training for the past year. Ever since my brother Gary left for the Games, I've been practicing. Our parents always made sure we were healthy and athletic, but I've taken it a step farther. I've been training with wooden spears and a bow. I've been learning how to injure and kill. I've been learning how to survive the arena.

My brother, Gary, volunteered for his girlfriend's little brother last year. He had been training, too, and this was the perfect opportunity. He made it to the final two; he was killed by the current reigning victor, Calla Greysens, of District 6. I missed him dearly, but I put my grief and mourning and pain into my training, imagining every dummy I smacked with my spear or hit with my arrow was Calla or one of the other tributes from that deadly Games.

Our family soon departed for the square. Other people in the streets parted as we walked; the Manchas' were deadly and disliked. No one, not even the wealthy District 2's, liked Peacekeepers. I had no friends besides my sister Jewel, but I didn't care; we were one of the richest families in the District, the equivalent of a Capitol citizen. Not that I could blame them. Two menacing parents who could kill whenever needed and two tough children, with a third in the grave from the games, was not the perfect picture of a nice family. But we made it work.

I was thinking over and over, to push my nerves away, that this was for my District. We only had one Victor so far. I could bring home another win. I knew I could.

Soon I was in line, and a kind man behind the table was asking my name.

"Serephina Manchas."

He immediately stiffened at the sound of my name. He slowly took my finger, gingerly, and pricked it, letting a tiny drop of blood splatter on the paper, before giving me a ball of cotton to press against the wound. He shakily told me which pen to stand in. I headed over to it.

Everyone parted, letting me stand at the front. Soon our escort, Jorjetta Belize, was talking animatedly about the Dark Days and the Reaping. She was always so entertaining; I pitied the Districts whose escorts were dismal and repetitive.

Jorjetta always started with girls, and she plucked out a name from the Reaping Ball.

"Bebe Cammersin!" Jorjetta called. I could hear a little 12 year old girl shriek in horror.

"I volunteer!" I yelled. I could hear the girl's body hitting the cobbles as she fainted in relief.

I jogged onto the stage. I could see Jewel's beaming face from the 14 year old pen and my parent's shocked expressions.

"What is your name?" Jorjetta asked.

"Serephina Manchas," I said into the mic. The crowd gasped.

"Gary Manchas' sister?" Jorjetta asked quietly.

"Yes," I said. "And I am going to win this for him."

...

POV: Bison Seville, District 10

I woke up to the pounding of hooves. The cattle were already being moved. Of course my father was moving pastures right before the Reaping. We were going to be late.

I threw off my sleep clothes and grabbed some jeans and a dress shirt. I slid into them, hopped into the bathroom, slicked back my hair with gel, and then rushed outside.

My father was almost done, riding his horse, Bronco, around, herding the cattle into the next pasture. My sister, Gazelle, 18, was riding her young horse named Hubert. My own horse had yet to be purchased, but the thought of what my horse would look like was usually in the forefront of my mind.

"Hurry up, dad!" I yelled. "It's a pretty far drive into the city, and we can't be late today!"

In ten minutes the last steer was in the other pasture. Gazelle hopped off of Hubert to slip into her dress while Father latched the gate to the other pasture and walked over.

Gazelle rushed out, and the three of us set off at a fast walk down the three mile dirt road connecting our ranch to the main city. In a half hour, we arrived at the city square. We were some of the last people arriving; the escort was already launching into her spiel about the Dark Days.

The lady quickly asked my name.

"Bison Drew Seville," I said. She wrote down my name and took a drop of blood before hurrying me into my pen.

Only minutes after getting settled, the girl is called up.

"Bianca Catalano." A fifteen year old girl walks onto the stage, shocked at first. By the time she's standing next to the escort, though, she looks confident, composed, dangerous, and most of all angry.

They chat for a minute before the male is selected.

"Bison Seville," the escort calls out. I am shocked into silence. I slowly trudge onto the stage.

No. No. No.

I knew right then and there that I was destined to die.

...

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the Reapings of Natalia, Serephina, and Bison! Keep the submissions coming in, and feel free to submit more than one tribute! Did you have a favorite Reaping of these three? A new favorite tribute? Sound off and leave comments and reviews!


	4. Kiera, Emmer, & Olivanna's Reapings

Here are the next three tributes; the male from Districts 5, and the females from Districts 4 and 6. Enjoy!

POV: Kiera Waters, District 4

I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock chirping loudly. I turn it off and roll out of my four poster bed.

I stretch my arms as the light pours in through the big floor to ceiling windows in my room. I shed my silky pink night robe and shuffle into the bathroom.

I turn on the shower, and steam starts to fill the room. I slide under the hot water, sighing. It feels so good. I work some of my Capitol shampoo into my long, long black hair. The shampoo, taken from the Capitol by my father when he visits there, makes my hair soft and silky. It is the only way my hair survives the heat and humidity of District 4.

After I'm done showering, I towel dry my body and comb out my hair. I look at the mirror, drinking in my light blue eyes, silky black hair, pale skin, and thin lips. I look marvelous.

I walk into my bedroom to see three dresses laid out by my maid, Carmelita. I pick one that is maroon, and slip it over my body. I then go back to the bathroom, where I go my makeup.

By the time I'm done, my family is ready downstairs; my mother has hung up her Peacekeeper uniform today. My father is already gone, as he is the mayor of District 4 and must be at the Reaping early to prepare. My little brother, Charlie, is 10 years younger than me, only 8. He is dressed in an adorable little suit. I hug him, and then the three of us walk out to the square.

My father doesn't know, but my mother has been training me, training me for the Games. I will bring more honor to our family today. I will volunteer, as my mother wishes me to. As of right now, I am just a fishing apprentice. We both agreed when I was 14 that that was not an acceptable trade, that I could do better, so I decided to train for the Games. That year, 4 years ago, was when the first Career appeared and won. From District 4, her name was Hannah Evans.

I spot my two best friends, Alison and Jacob. They are holding hands; they are a couple. Both 19, they are free of the Reaping but have come to watch. They know I will be volunteering.

The woman recording attendees asks my name will and age.

"Kiera Waters, 18."

She notices my last name. She knows I am the mayor's daughter. When she pricks my finger, she does so gingerly, carefully.

I walk into the pen for 18 year old girls. They part for me, and I stand at the front. Some know I am volunteering and want the quickest path to the stage. Others are intimidated. And a few, I know, have feelings for me, and look at me in awe. The one girl next to me is clearly fawning over my looks. Lucky for her, she's pretty hot, so I smile at her and tell her that maybe we could meet after the Reaping. So rude of me. I'll be volunteering. She just nods, charmed by me.

The escort takes the stage and winds her long spiel. Then she draws the girl's name.

"Kat-" she begins, but I scream out.

"I volunteer!" I yell, jogging onto the stage.

"I am Kiera Waters, 18." I can see my father, horrified, in the audience, standing next to my stately mother, who hides a smile.

"The mayor's daughter?!" the escort asks.

"Yes," I reply, but on the inside I am so much more.

I am a fighter, a winner, a ruler.

I am a victor-in-waiting.

...

POV: Emmer Schuliare, District 5

My parents were both already awake, dressed in their best lecturing garb. Teachers, they rarely were not "dressy". Mr. and Mrs. Schuliare, my mother and father, were two of the most respected teachers of our District. My father taught 17 year olds higher level mathematics, and my mother taught a selective class of electrical engineers how to design, build, maintain, and manage your average power grid.

"Emmer, what is the chance of you being picked today?" my father asked as he slid on his shiny black dress shoes.

"There's a seven hundred and thirty four to one chance of me being Reaped," I said. I had recently gleaned the number of boys enrolled for our District this year from a Capitol report.

"Good boy," my father said proudly, and I beamed. He and my mother were basically the only people who thought my intelligence was not "annoying" or "crude." They just couldn't understand me because of their low IQs. That reminded me of another fact.

"Mom, do you know which District has the lowest average IQ?"

"No, honey."

"It's District 8; they're too wrapped up in their cloths to learn!"

My parents chuckled as I put on my gingham dress shirt and affixed my glasses to my face.

"And obviously District 3 has the highest IQ, but why wouldn't they? Don't you sometimes think we were born into the wrong District?"

"Often," my father remarks quietly as we finish getting ready. Then we leave behind our nicely sized house and head out to the District square.

When we got to the square, the lady asked my name.

"Emmer Schulaire. Hey, lady, did you know there has been exactly 3 other Emmer's who have lived in District 5?"

"Great job," she said sarcastically, pricking my finger.

"Did you know one out of every three people are severely afraid of needles?" I blurted.

"Get in your pen," the lady growled, getting annoyed with my antics. I chuckled to myself and walked into the 15 year old male pen.

I spot my best and only friend, Victor, in the 16 year old pen in front of my pen. He was the king of our class, our school. He was attractive and smart. Our friendship started when he pitied me having no friends and became my friend.

"Malik, did you know that there is a 4 out of 28 chance that one of us will be picked today?" I say to the guy next to me. Malik, dark skinned and muscled, about a head taller than me, sighed, rolling his eyes.

"It's true, Malik." Malik ignored me.

"Hey Malik. Hey Malik. Hey Malik." I repeated. He groaned.

Thankfully for him, the escort walked onto the stage.

"There's a five hundred and seven to five hundred and eight chance that Soprana looks like a walrus," i whispered. A few boys around me chuckled. It was true though; Soprana's good days and her good looks were a distant memory.

Soprana went over her entire spiel, and I made a few more jokes as she went on. The girl was called onto the stage, and I wasn't really paying attention to what her name was. Then I smiled, looking at Malik.

"It's gonna be you," I whispered teasingly.

"Emmer Schuliare!" Soprana sang.

"No, Emmer," Malik said, a manic grin on his face. "It's actually you."

...

POV: Olivanna Sanatorium, District 6

I wake up early, stretching. Today is the Reaping. Today is the beginning of a new year's worth of jokes.

Some people call it grotesque, others psychotic, but the Hunger Games fascinate me. They are my total and utter focus, and I make jokes about them and predictions and charts and even gamble about the tributes and who will become the Victor. I like the Games as much as any Capitol citizen.

It is a cruel hobby, but it distracts me from the problems in my life. The Games distract me from the fingers of hunger stabbing my stomach or the brief funerals that happen every few months after a big accident occurs in one of the factories or workshops. It distracts me from my insecurities and the truth that my life will never amount to anything besides living on the brink of poverty and occasionally starving. The only thing I may accomplish is bringing children to starve and rot and have more children who will do the same.

The night before, the District 1-4 Reapings had been broadcasted. I had already made a chart of the 8 chosen tributes; my favorite so far was Serephina Manchas from District 2. She seemed like a real contender. She was Garry Manchas' sister. He had been my favorite last year.

My mother woke up, and got out our dress clothes. I put on my gray dress, plain and cheap but good enough for the Reaping. My brother, older by one year, named Xavier, put on his blue dress shirt and black dress pants.

"You ready, Liv?" Xavier asked.

"Yeah," I said. My parents got dressed as well, and we headed out to the square.

Who would be chosen from my District? Whose names would fill my little chart? Would one of them become my favorites? We currently had the reigning victor, Calla. It would be surprising for us to win again.

At the square, a man taking names asked my name and age.

"Olivanna Sanatorium, 15," I muttered. He pricked my finger and pushed it against the paper. Then he let me go to the pen for 15 year old girls.

I saw my friends Alain, Bianca, and Nasira in other pens. I stood in my pen wearily. Soon the escort was on the stage and picking the female tribute.

I mused over who it would be as the escort fished out a slip.

"Olivanna Sanatorium," the escort called. I froze.

I guess my chart was going to be left blank this year.

...

A/N: Well, here are some more Reapings! I really hope you are enjoying them! Review please! 

Two questions:

1\. Best tribute of these 3

2\. Best tribute so far

Until I get more tributes...Tracelynn, over and out!


	5. Catherine,Cameron,& Hailea's Reapings

A/N: Tracelynn here! Enjoy the Reapings of the District 3 and 11 females and District 3 male.

...

POV: Catherine Spark, District 3

I woke up slowly, stretching my arms. My twin brother, Cameron, was asleep in his cot, which sat next mine. I poked him awake, and he smiled.

"Reaping Day," I murmured.

"You're speaking again," Cameron said sleepily. "It's nice to here my twin's voice."

Cameron was always the one in our pair who was more lovable, likable, talkative, social. He was the better half. I was the silent, quiet, shy, hidden, introverted one, who slunk around the depths of our school, avoiding conversation and bullies.

"Our first Reaping," Cameron mused as he slipped out of bed. "Our names are only in once. The odds are in our favor."

"Yeah," I said, my voice hoarse from sleep and disuse. We climbed out of bed.

My mom waited in the doorway, handing us our dress clothes. Cameron slipped on his white dress shirt and black dress pants while I slipped into my green and red plaid dress. After we finished dressing, we walked out of our room.

Our parents were waiting in our cramped kitchen, already bent over their computers. Cameron's eyes locked onto our laptops, plugged into the wall. My dad was probably pouring over his blueprints for the new Hologram8, and my mom was probably typing a new string of code into the program she was working on. Cameron cleared his throat. My parents looked up, flustered.

"Oh yeah. We should go," my dad murmured, and we walked out the door.

We reached the square, where a woman asked my name and pricked my finger.

"My name is Catherine Spark, I'm 12," I said. She pricked my fingers, pressing some blood onto the paper. Then I went to my pen.

Our escort, a portly green skinned woman named Eartha Wendell, showed a lengthy video I had only watched from the shadows before. Now I stood in the sweltering pen, a part of the Reaping.

Eartha's hand dipped into the Reaping Ball and pulled out a slip.

"Catherine Spark!" she roared, and I began to weep as Peacekeepers dragged me onto the stage. I could see my parents crying and the shocked look on Cameron's face.

I was going to die.

...

POV: Cameron Spark, District 3

I woke up to the feeling of someone prodding me. It was my silent sister, Catherine.

"Reaping Day," she whispered into my ear.

"You're speaking again," I said, stretching. "It's nice to hear your voice."

My sister was the shy one, the quiet one, the sadly disappointing one. She sometimes could go for days, weeks, without speaking, locked in her own little world. She hadn't been speaking for four days. It really was nice to hear her speaking.

"Our first Reaping," I said. "Our names are only in once. The odds are in our favor."

"Yeah," Catherine grumbled, seeming preoccupied in her mind.

We got dressed into the clothes our mother handed us; I put on my white dress shirt and black dress pants. Catherine pulled on her plaid dress.

We walked out into the kitchen, where our parents were busy at work. My eyes darted to my plugged in laptop. Once we got back, my friends and I would probably open a chat about who had been Reaped.

My parents ignored us, and I cleared my throat. My mom looked up, poking my dad.

"Oh yeah. We should go," he grunted, closing his laptop. We all walked out of our cramped apartment and to the square.

We arrived, and a man asked my name and age.

"Cameron Spark, 12," I declared. He pricked my finger, taking some of the blood and smearing it on the paper. Then I was escorted to my pen.

I spot my best friend, Andrew Hale, and I walk up to him. We do our secret handshake. My other friend, AJ, waves from the 13 year old pen. I wave back. I also spot another friend, Kat, an 11 year old girl, crouched in the shadows just outside of the square.

The escort, Eartha, took the stage and showed a short video. Then she picked the female tribute.

"Catherine Spark!" she called out, and I froze. Andrew looked at me in worry.

My twin sister began to ball as Peacekeepers pulled her onto the stage. Then Eartha picked the male tribute.

"Cameron Spark!"

The world froze, and the last thing I remembered was my head smacking against the cobbles as I fainted.

...

POV: Hailea Himalayan, District 11

I woke up to my sister yanking the covers off of my bed.

"Hail, dammit, it's Reaping day! Get your waste of a body out of your fricken' cot!"

"I'm getting up, Heidi," I murmured. She was always this verbally abusive to me, sometimes worse. My mom never, ever noticed.

My frail, tiny, little malnourished body wasn't good enough for a nice dress, Heidi roared at me, as she threw me my work overalls and a white t-shirt. I put them on, and Heidi marched me into the kitchen.

My mother, quiet and depressed as always, was bent over the worn table in the middle of the big room of our 2 room house, praying. Heidi ignored her and escorted me out to the square. My mother was too depressed today to move, it seemed.

Heidi made sure to kick lots of dust in my face as we left behind the melon farm we worked and lived on. We jogged into the city, Heidi slurring together her abusive words and phrases as she jogged. We reached the square minutes before the reaping started.

The woman hurriedly asked my name and age.

"Hailea Himalayan, 12," I murmured. This was my first Reaping. She took my finger and pricked it, taking blood, then rushed me off to the 12 year old pen.

Our escort, Quinta, was showing a video. She then picked the girl tribute.

"Hailea Himalayan."

I held back tears as I walked onto the stage. I looked at Heidi's face, my bottom lip quivering.

Heidi was smiling.

...

A/N: So, all 12 year old tributes this time! What did you think of the twins and the abused little girl? Review!  
Also, if you are planning on submitting a tribute, please make them capable of winning. 7 out of the 12 tributes I have so far have been deemed "bad and made to die early." While I like and need Bloodbath tributes, I don't want this entire Games to be about 5 tributes killing off bunches of cannon fodder! So please consider, if you are submitting another tribute, that they might be fit for the title of Victor! (Sorry if that was harsh).

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Until next time!

-Tracee


	6. Dameon, Calix, & Camillie's Reapings

This chapter is about the Reapings of the District 2 and 9 males and the District 12 female. 16/24 tributes turned in! We're getting closer!

...

POV: Dameon Xaine, District 2

My sisters, Baylor and Bailey, poked me, telling me to wake up. This was going to be our last dawn training session before I headed off to the Games. Today was the Reaping.

I slid out of bed, and I spotted my brother Dy'lan standing by the door. Dy'lan was the oldest, 20; he'd skipped training and had decided he didn't want to go into the Games. Baylor was 17 and Bailey was 15.

Baylor, Bailey, and myself found our parents at the regular spot behind our house, in an empty, unused quarry. They had us run through strength exercises, lugging hunks of limestone and quartz. Then we did laps around the bottom of the quarry and sparred with wooden swords and spears. By the time the sun had fully risen, we were drenched in sweat, our muscles tired and our throats begging for water.

We refreshed ourselves and went back inside. Dy'lan was already dressed. He didn't live with us anymore; he didn't approve of our lifestyle. He lived with his fiancee Clarica in a cottage on the outskirts of town, as far away from us as possible. He had only come because he knew I was volunteering.

He pulled me aside as Baylor, Bailey, and my parents started to go shower and get dressed up.

"Dameon," Dy'lan said, his voice thick and nervous. "You don't have to do this. You shouldn't."

"I have been training since I was a kid to do this, Dy'lan," I murmur. "I am doing it."

"I can't lose you, Dameon," Dy'lan whispered hoarsely. "I can't lose you too."

"What?" I said.

"Clarica is dead," Dameon said solemnly. "She died in the quarries thirteen days ago. I'm guessing Mom and Dad didn't worry your little pampered head with that fact, did they?"

I was shaken, but Baylor called for me, saying it was my turn for a shower.

I wanted to do what a good brother would do, but instead I was the bad brother. I was the bad brother, walking away, leaving Dy'lan to weep after I turned the corner.

I showered and dressed in khakis and a blue dress shirt. My family left. I noticed Dy'lan's eyes were bloodshot. My soul crumbled.

Well, I guess it was good my soul was crumbling. I couldn't have a soul in the Games.

Soon enough we were in the square, which was next to a big quarry. One that had suffered a dire accident thirteen days ago. I ignored Dy'lan's sharp intake of breath, charging up to the table where they would record attendance. I was one of the first people there.

"Dameon Xaine, 18," I declared, and they pricked my finger. My mother squeezed my hand and shooed me, Baylor, and Bailey off. My father was on duty; I knew exactly where he was stationed. I saluted to him, and he returned the gesture.

Soon the square was full to the brim, and heat produced by a throng of human bodies was thick in the air. I breathed in as the escort took the stage.

I didn't really listen to her, only looking up to see the female tribute. Someone volunteered, and Serephina Manchas took the stage.

I knew she had trained, too. She was the sister of Garry Manchas, who had placed 2nd in the Games. Her father was the mayor and her mother was a head Peacekeeper. She was a powerful person, yet she decided to chance throwing it away or gaining even more by entering the Games.

Then the male was called. I let the name ring out, loud and clear, across the square.

"Thomas Scheffendale!" the escort yelled, and a 17 year old boy started to trudge to the stage.

"I volunteer!" I cried, and Thomas sighed in relief. I jogged to the stage.

"How do you know Thomas?" the escort asked.

"I don't. I just want to enter the Games," I smirked playfully.

And, at that moment, was when the Games began.

...

POV: Calix Jackson, District 9

I woke up to the scratching of little tiny paws against the pavement. I shrugged off my ratty blanket and sat up, stretching my arms up, towards the heavens.

The paws belonged to a pair of rats, who were tearing apart the remainders of my food stores. I groaned, and my stomach groaned. I stood.

To calm my aching belly, I pulled out a half burned photograph of a smiling couple holding an infant. My parents. This photo was salvaged from the fire. I was 10 when the fire rippled across the row of apartment buildings, claiming dozens of lives. I was rescued by firefighters, but by the time they went back in, my mother was dead from smoke inhalation. Then the apartment building collapsed, smothering my father, the firefighters, and several others. I went back to the sight a week later and, in the rubble, found a half burnt trunk that had held all my family's memories. The photo was the only thing worth taking; the rest was blackened or ruined by smoke and flames.

I rubbed the pad of my thumb across the sleek surface of the photograph, drifting away. It was only then that I remembered that it was Reaping day.

I sighed, pacing along the greasy length of the alleyway. My hands ran through my short red hair, recently cropped by myself. The cuts were choppy and adequate at best, but they would have to do.

I wiped the dirt off of my stained white shirt and ripped jeans. I pulled on my leather jacket, stolen a few months ago from a sale rack outside a clothing store. It fit me well. It was the only nice thing I owned.

I appeared at the square, muttering to myself as I waited in line. I was obviously a homeless kid, one that had slipped through the cracks and avoided orphanages. Russell, a guy I traded with, said that I was to mangy for an orphanage. I slapped him whenever he said it, even though it was probably true.

"Name, age?" a tired older woman asked. She was recording attendance.

"Calix Jackson, 14," I murmured. She pricked my finger, and then shooed me into the correct pen.

Everyone parted around me, leaving a small, lopsided circle of open space around me. I sighed as the escort took the stage.

Soon the girl was being called up.

"Andrea Matches!" the escort screeched. Andrea, 16, trotted onto the stage. Then the escort picked the male.

"Calix Jackson!" the escort yelled.

I groaned, and my stomach groaned, while the crowd did not, as I staggered onto the stage.

...

POV: Camillie Lynne Montegro, District 12

"Camillie, Camillie, Camillie, Camillie!" my little sister, Wendie, shrieked, waking me up.

I rolled out of bed, moaning.

"Today of all days?" I asked impatiently.

"Every Wessday!" Wendie blubbered. She still couldn't pronounce Wednesday.

"Alrighty, Wendie," I said, patting her head. "But it will have to be short."

"Yay!" Wendie yelled, and she took me by the hand and pulled me outside.

My parents were still asleep, but Wendie was demanding. So I took her out to our garden.

It grew just outside the forest, where the soil was the most fertile. A scraggly assortment of herbs and some vegetable plants grew under the half-shade of an oak tree's limbs. It was what kept my family alive when the salary of my miner mother and Hob seller father wasn't enough to buy the 4 of us food.

"Let's garden!" Wendie yelped, and I helped her pat the soil down and sprinkle some rainwater over a place where I had planted some stolen tomato seeds. She loved the garden, and we visited it every Wednesday, or Wessday, as Wendie called them. I picked some ripe tomatoes and a few pieces of thyme, which my father said would go well in his new soup. Wendie and I marched back to our cottage on the outskirts of town.

Our parents were awake, and we all got dressed in our best. Wendie put on a butter yellow dress, I put on a clementine orange one, my mother wore a gray dress, and my father wore jeans and a plaid shirt. We all trotted into town, where everyone was congregating in the square. The escort was already on the stage, about to begin. Her name was Edna Trinket.

"Name and age?" the man recording names asked.

"Camillie Lynne Montegro, 14," I announced. He pricked my finger, and I walked into the pen.

Edna chatted for a while, then drew the girl's name.

"Camillie Montegro!"

I would never see my garden again.

...

A/N: So, we're getting close to having all the tributes! 16 have been submitted and 1 is reserved. That means we only need 7 more. These are the tributes that are needed:

-District 1 Male

-District 6 Male

-District 7 Male and Female

-District 8 Female

-District 11 Male

-District 12 Male

Also, would you guys be interested in me asking trivia from the series every chapter? If you would like that, say so in your review.

Who was your favorite of these three, and what is your Top 2, 3, or 4 so far? I hope you enjoyed Dameon, Calix, and Camillie's Reapings!

Until next time, Tracee.


	7. Cephas, Caitlin, &Theodore's Reapings

This is the Reapings of the District 1 and 11 males and District 5 female! We're getting close, we really are!

...

POV: Cephas Gold, District 1

The sun was setting, a scattering of glowing embers that framed the horizon. The cooling coals smoldering and melted into black as I worked and worked.

Sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped down my bare, muscled chest and abdomen as I went through the strenuous physical activity. My trainer, Keith, barked at me, telling me to work harder. I dropped and did pushups when he instructed me to. I gritted my teeth as my muscles eventually gave out.

I lay there, panting, until Keith pulled me to my feet. He doused me in water and then dragged me back to my house.

Night training was a daily ritual. It had been since the First Games had been announced. My parents had been frightened that I might be Reaped, and, with their riches, and employed an ex-Peacekeeper trainer to train me in case I was ever Reaped. I was 18, and it was my last Reaping. My parents would be relieved; their only son would be safe. But I had a different plan in mind.

It was fine, being a popular Capitol hair stylist and a famous perfumer's son. I had my share of girls who fawned over me, and I had enough money to last me a lifetime of indulgence. No, what I wanted was to make my own fame. My parents had come from lesser known families and had earned respect. I wanted to do the same.

And the only way I could do that was by joining the Hunger Games.

I walked into my room and took a long shower before slipping under the soft sheets of my bed. I lay awake for hours until I drifted off.

I woke up at dawn. My internal clock was blaring, telling me it was time for an easy morning workout with Keith. But that would be skipped today because it was Reaping day.

I dressed in a nice gingham shirt with khakis. As I slipped on my brown dress shoes, my mother waltzed in.

"The last one, Cephas," my mother said, hugging me close. "After today you will be free."

"Octavia, it's time to go!" my father yelled from the kitchen.

"I'm coming, Hermes, calm down!" my mother roared back, and we both walked into the kitchen. My dad gave us a breakfast he had prepared, and then we marched out the door and to the square.

The woman taking attendance seemed charmed by me as she asked my name and age.

"Cephas Gold, 18," I said playfully, winking. She smiled and pricked my finger, smearing my blood next to my name on a sheet of paper.

I walked to my pen. The escort, Tauria, tiredly began to talk after the mayor left the stage. Then she picked the girl's name.

"Velvet Sanarra!" Tauria yelped.

"I volunteer!" a girl cried out. A 17 year old girl trotted onto the stage.

"My name is Natalia General," she murmured.

"Welcome, Natalia!" Tauria said before picking the boy's name.

"Ma-"

"I volunteer!" I yelled, loud and clear. I could see my shocked parents and Keith smiling. Keith had suspected this.

"My name is Cephas Gold, and I am ready for these Games," I shouted into the microphone.

I was truly ready to win.

...

POV: Caitlin Theardie, District 5

The bleeping of an alarm clock rings in my ears as I slowly roll out of bed.

The alarm clock had been another of Grandma's futile attempts to get me to wake up early. I was always, always, always late to everything. Thankfully, I was a triathelete, so I could run pretty fast and make up some lost time. But today was an important day. I couldn't be late.

It was Reaping day.

You could get whipped for being late or not showing up to Reapings if you were a kid in them. So I rushed through my grandmother's lavish house, just wearing my running outfit.

In the kitchen, Grandma was slowly making a cup of tea. I kissed her, reminding her it was the Reaping. She sighed and got in her wheelchair. Our neighbor, Mr. Tussix, was heading to the square and helped me push Grandma along.

We moved down the streets calmly. It was okay, I repeated in my head. They couldn't kill me for being late. Time was a structure of humanity. It didn't really exist. The heavens could forgive me for not following a man-made construct.

I heard the escort call out the girl's name, although I couldn't make out the words. I kissed Grandma and thanked Mr. Tussix before sprinting to the square as fast as I could.

A flustered woman quickly recorded my name and age.

"Caitlin Theardie, 15," I panted.

"Well, deary, you just got Reaped," the woman said sadly.

"Oh," I whispered as the Peacekeepers came and dragged me to the stage. Then the boy was called up.

"Emmer Schuliare!" the escort yelled. I ignored the boy as it sank in.

I had been Reaped.

...

POV: Theodore Anderson, District 11

I woke up to the sun glimmering over the horizon. I shrugged on my cotton shirt and my worn out overalls and walked outside, to the back of my small, haphazard cottage. I picked up my rusted pitchfork and marched away from the house.

After a half hour's walk down a barely discernible path in the forest, I arrived at the apple orchard, where I worked as a harvester. I trudged over to the main office, where Samantha would record my attendance at work.

Samantha was a gnarled older woman, and when she spotted me walking in, she looked surprised.

"What ya doin' here, Theo?" Samantha asked. "It's Reaping day, boy!"

"Dammit, it is," I murmured.

"Well, get, Theo! They could lash ya for missin' it!" Samantha howled. I knew she was right. I galloped away from the orchard, past others heading to work, and trundled back to my cottage.

My mother was getting all worked up, waiting outside the cottage with my 12 year old brother Brett. My sisters, Sandra and Ria, were still inside, sleeping, under the watch of my cousin Trish, who was 19. Me, my mother, and Brett walked to the square together.

The man recording attendance asked my name and age.

"Theodore Anderson, 18," I said. He pricked my finger and took blood before shooing me to my pen. The escort, Mina Taylor, took the stage after Mr. Yael, the mayor. She talked and played the old video, and then she picked the girl.

"Hailea Himalayan!" A little 12 year old girl, whimpering, trotted onto the stage.

"Brett Anderson!" Mina cried. I saw my little brother start to weep as he walked away from the 12 year old pen.

"I volunteer!" I shouted.

My life was forever changed at that moment.

...

A/N: Hello! We are SO close! We have the District 4 Male and the District 7s reserved, and all we need are these 3:

District 6 Male

District 8 Female

District 12 Male

We're in the home stretch! Soon we'll have everyone!

Also, I have a poll on my profile. Vote for the 4 best tributes so far. The ones with the most votes will probably go the farthest, so vote for your favorites!

Until next time, Tracee.


	8. Christopher, Holly& Walter's Reapings

This chapter will show the Reapings of the District 12 and 4 males and the District 8 female. Sorry I haven't posted in a while, I've been entirely too busy for my own good!

Edit: Sorry! Originally, I was posting a District 7 bloodbath I'd created, and forgot to change this top part. So the District 7 female is not in this chapter.

...

POV: Christopher Tidesworth, District 4

I wake up to the sunlight slanting through the clouded windows of the small shack I call a home. My grandmother sleeps on the cot next to mine, and I wake her.

"What, dear? Did you say shake the cup?!"

"I said wake up! It's Reaping day!"

"Goddamn Reaping day. I hate it. Why do we kill children? It's all because of that Snow bast-"

"Grandma!"

"I'm sorry Chris. You know how cranky I get when you wake me and then correct my hearing."

I sighed, and helped her stand. She shrugged on a nice lavender shawl over her day to day cotton dress, and I put on a nice blue shirt with a black blazer and some ragged trousers.

I lived with my grandma because both of my parents were dead. They both died in the rebellion; my father was a rebel and my mother was a civilian victim during a bombing. Grandma Ernestine's hearing became dramatically worse after the rebellion since she was caught in an explosion which ruptured one of her eardrums.

I shook myself, shaking away the memories of the past. Grandma Ernestine called for me to come, and I did.

We made our way to the city square where a woman taking attendance asks my name and age.

"Christopher Tidesworth, 15," I tell her.

She shooed me to my pen, where I stood with the other 15 year old boys. I had no friends, as I kept myself isolated and I spent most of my time working at a water mill.

Then I spotted someone who had stolen my heart since I met her three years ago; Kiera Waters, age 18. She was the mayor's daughter and she was a beauty. There were rumors that she had her heart set only on girls, but I didn't care. It was mostly pure infatuation, but that didn't matter. She was still gorgeous and the subject of my dreams and musings.

The escort took the stage after the mayor and called out the girl's name.

"Kat-"

"I volunteer!" Kiera jogged onto the stage, and my heart nearly stopped. Her dress was a little sparkly (I hated sparkles) but I ignored that. Kiera. Volunteering. For a random girl. It made me want to weep. I'd probably never get to be with her.

Then the escort chose the male.

"Christopher Tidesworth!"

It seemed that I'd be with spending time with my unrequited love for a while longer yet.

...

POV: Holly Burnett, District 8

Carla was already shaking me, telling me to wake up. I rolled out of bed with a groan, and Carla helped me to my feet.

I almost went to put on my cloth factory uniform, but Carla swatted my hand away.

"Not today, Holly. Today's the Reaping. We gotta get dressed and go."

Carla helped me into my simple white dress, and she put on her gray one. Leah, our younger sister, was too young to be Reaped yet, but she too dressed up in a baby pink skirt and a purple shirt and skipped into the kitchen, where Mom waited for us.

My father had been gone for a long time now, killed in the factories like so many others. The Capitol was laboring to make working conditions better, but close to a hundred people still died yearly in District 8's factories, and even more in the outer Districts.

My sisters and I had gone into the orphanage for a few years while my mother worked hard until she had enough money to be able to raise us. The orphanage was rough, but the alleys would have been rougher. At that time, Carla was 12, I was 10, and Leah was a little kid at 4.

The four of us linked arms and marched out to the square. Around us, the ragged, rebellious people of District 8 trudged and moved angrily towards the square. We had been one of the first Districts to rebel, and we were probably the only one that had yet to lose its rebelliousness as a whole. Some were either oblivious or ignorant to the general rumble of dissent in our District, but they couldn't deny our disobedience. We had double the number of yearly executions than most Districts. We had triple the number of executions in 4 and quadruple the number of executions in 1 and 2.

Carla had been a rebel; he body was scarred from war. I had my owns scars, though they existed from being an almost-but-not-quite citizen casualty at age 5, a wounded girl thrown to the side. Ever since that day, when District 8 was bombed and I bled alone in a dark alley, I had gone almost no where alone. I was frightened of Peacekeepers, the dark, and the Capitol, just like a little kid. Even Leah was braver than me at some times. It seemed that my fears as a 5 year old had stuck with me through thick and thin, up to age 16.

We arrived at the square, where a woman recorded my name and age.

"Holly Burnett, age 16."

She smiled and took a blood sample by pricking my finger. She wiped the blood onto the paper and then pointed me to the correct pen.

I stood in the hot, sweaty pen, and the escort began to babble. Her name was Molly Crows. Then she drew the boy slip (she had decided to do boys first, to spice things up.)

"Burlap Thomasson!" she screeched. A muscled boy walked onto the stage, and I felt a pang of pity.

"Holly Burnett!" Molly cried. Suddenly, all around me, was gunfire and whirring of sirens, and I felt my blood leaking into the rocky ground of the alleyway.

...

POV: Walter Inlaen, District 12

I was already awake before the sun even rose. I had forgotten it was Reaping Day, and I'd put on my mining outfit and was marching to the mines. I hadn't seen my buddies Ken and Alyx, so I knew something was off, but I marched on, oblivious.

Habit is a strange thing. It consumes your mind, taking over like instinct when you're not listening or paying attention or even awake. I walked two miles to the mines and even into the shaft. It took the fact that even the mine supervisor, Geoff, was missing, to launch me out of my haze.

"Reaping," I growled, suddenly aware. I banged my fists against the rock wall of the shaft, the rock cutting into my palms. I didn't care. I flexed my muscled arms as my nostrils flared. I left my pick axe by the entrance of the shaft and sprinted home as fast as I could.

My large, 11 member family had assembled and were about to leave. I didn't have time to change; I wore my sooty overalls and gray shirt and my muddy, scraped work boots.

Both my parents walked at the front. I listed off my siblings in my head as I walked. Carol, 20. Humphrey, 18. Patricia, 15. Daniel, 14. Jeannie, 12. Gregory, 11. Nathalie, 10. And Erwin, 8. Humphrey, myself, Patricia, Daniel, and Jeannie would be up for grabs in the Reaping today. We'd already lost my brother, Zachary, when he was 16 in the 4th Games.

We all rushed over to the square, and when we arrived, the people recording attendance groaned at the sight of our large family. I was one of the last up.

"Walter Inlaen, 17," I told the woman.

She nodded, pricked my finger, and pushed me in the direction of my pen.

I walked into the pen, finding Ken inside. Alyx was 16; he was in the pen behind us.

We chatted, laughing, until the escort, Edna Trinket, took the stage.

She talked for a bit before picking the female.

"Camillie Montegro!" she shouted. A 15 year old girl ran onto the stage.

Then her hand dipped into the male bowl, and time slowed.

"Walter...Inlaen!" she cried in slow motion. I walked every so slowly onto the stage, and the resounding cries of grief from my family seemed as if they were miles away.

Right then and there, I knew I would be following in my brother Zachary's footsteps.

...

A/N: Hello! So we are SOOOOO close to finishing.

REDROSES, YOUR RESERVATION OF THE DISTRICT 7 FEMALE IS STILL VALID! The male has been taken, though. Please get her in ASAP.

So, assuming Redroses will make both District 7 tributes, that leaves us with only ONE other tribute to be made...

The District 6 Male.

Even if you've already turned in a tribute, please think about submitting another so we can finally wrap up the Reapings and get on to some real stuff besides writing 24 repetitive scenes! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Who's your favorite of these 3? Favorite so far?

Until next time!

-Tracee


	9. Steale, Bethany, & Chen's Reapings

A/N: At last, we have our final 3 tributes! Yay! This chapter will be about the District 6 and 7 males and the District 7 female.

...

POV: Steale Boeing, District 6

The whir of machinery woke me up on Reaping day. My father must have decided to try and get some extra work in before we left to the city square. I sighed, rolling my eyes, as I slipped out of bed. Of course he was going to make me have to work, too.

I threw on my greasy overalls and strode into the repair garage, which was next door to our small yet cozy house. My father had on his welding mask and was fixing something I couldn't see through the thin cloud of sparks from his welder. I leaned against the wall, waiting until he shut of the machine.

Finally the sparks died down, and my father looked over at me.

"Good morning, Steale," he said, whipping off his welding mask. His eyes were rimmed with black bags, his mouth curled in an eternal frown. He tried so hard to provide for us, but he never spent time with us. I never connected with him unless it was over how to assemble an engine for a H36 Hovercraft. He put food on the table, and I was thankful for that, but beyond that, I felt nothing for him.

"Good morning, father," I returned. "Let's go eat, shall we?"

He followed me back into our tiny house, where my mother was waiting inside the kitchen.

"Stealey!" she cried, smiling. She ran over to me and hugged me close to her chest. She had an apron on, and she was warm from standing by the stove. I hugged her back. She tried to connect with me, and she succeeded. She loved me, and I loved her.

My 3 member family sat down at the table in our kitchen. My mother doled out servings of eggs and toast smothered in raspberry jam.

"Stealey, honey, when we get back from the Reaping, I'm baking blueberry muffins, your favorite," she said. She always, always, always spoiled me, and I loved it. I never got into trouble and she never punished me. Some said I had a giant ego because of this. Was I wrong to be proud of myself? Was it wrong to take pride in my work?!

"Great. That will be delicious, Mom," I said as I swallowed my eggs, which we delicious, too. My father ate silently. He still, after all these years, didn't understand how I could love my mother so much and love him so little.

After I finished eating, I wiped the jam from my mouth, and then I jogged into my room. My mother had laid out my nice Reaping outfit; newly ironed black slacks and a white and blue striped polo shirt. I put on my clothes, and then I walked back out.

My parents were ready, and we all walked to the city square.

"You know, Steale, there's two more orders for RC5 engines," he said. "You're gonna have to move quicker assembling those, or we may lose some customers."

I nodded, annoyed with my father. I wish he had more children, so I wouldn't have to help him so much and have so much responsibility. Also, back to the ego thing; how could I have such an ego if I had such responsibility?

We arrived at the square soon enough. The man recording attendance asked my name and age.

"Steale Boeing, 16," I said. He pricked my finger, smearing the blood on a paper by my name, and then I walked over to the 16 year old boy's pen.

Soon the escort took the stage, and she chatted on and on and on. She was so proud; only last year, we had received our first victor, Calla. Calla stood in the shadows, watching, smiling. She looked at ease, somehow, even though she'd killed more than 5 people only a year ago.

The escort picked the girl quickly.

"Olivanna Sanatorium!" she yelled. A 15 year old girl walked on stage. Then her hand dipped into the boy's bowl.

"Steale Boeing!"

My parents would be eating the blueberry muffins alone.

...

POV: Bethany Taylor, District 7

Yetta and Panema, my little sisters, woke me up, poking me. They were so much younger than me, ages 5 and 7 respectively. I was 16; my parents had me when they were much too young. They separated for a while, until 8 years ago, when they remarried and I was reunited with my father, Ryder. Now I had two little sisters that I loved and cherished with all my heart.

I rolled out of bed, and my sisters smiled up at me. I hugged them, then slipped out of my nightgown. I walked over to the closet and pulled out my only dress, a faded one that was aquamarine with little gray trim on the skirt. It had been a nice dress when my mother was 16, but now, it was an old, albeit eye catching, moth eaten thing.

My sisters were dressed in little new dresses they'd gotten for their birthdays several months ago. They were both shades of pink. I held their hands as we walked out of our small, communal room and into the kitchen/living room/second bedroom of my home.

My mother, a paper maker, and my father, a lumberjack, earned a meager salary, barely enough to keep us fed. We shared the small house with a couple named the Krenson's. Mrs. Krenson was three months pregnant, and the local healer had predicted the gender to be male. Soon our small shared hut would be overrun.

The Krenson's slept in the other bedroom in the house; my parents slept in the center room. There was also a table, three chairs, and some kitchen appliances in the center room. The Krenson's had decided not to come to the Reapings. My mother was gone, having to work her shift today, but my father would take me, Yetta, and Panema to the Reaping.

I found a hairband and tied my silky black hair up in a ponytail before we walked out. Both my sisters had the same luscious black hair as me. I helped Yetta tie hers in a braid as we walked to the city square, hand in hand.

On the way, I spotted one of my bestfriends, Jeremy, age 18. His father wasn't with him; he was working the early shift at the lumbermill. Jeremy's younger sister, Corinne, was with him. They walked with us to the square.

Once there, I saw many of my other friends. I was a "social butterfly," as my mother called me, and most people were my friends. I walked up to the woman taking attendance after I'd greeted some friends.

"Name and age?" she asked me.

"Bethany Taylor, 16," I said.

She nodded and pricked my finger, taking a sample of my blood and putting it on the page. Then she directed me to the 16 year old girl's pen. I jogged over and spotted my other best friend, Ivy, my age, waiting near the front of the pen.

"Beth!" she cried, and we hugged tight. A few other close friends materialized, and our friend group chatted for a while until the escort, Dyanna Wang, took the stage. I always loved Dyanna's makeup and dresses. She was very fashion forward yet streamlined; she didn't dye her skin or go overboard like most Capitols. There was something almost alluring about her.

"Girls first, as always," Dyanna said after she played the video. Her hand dipped into the Reaping bowl for girls, and she called out a name.

"Bethany Taylor!"

Hopefully this social butterfly could stretch her wings and make it out of the Games.

...

POV: Chen Evoncurst, District 7

"Good morning, Chêne," my father said, waking me up. "It is time to wake up, son."

I smiled at my pet name, Chêne. My name, Chen, came from the French word Chêne, meaning Oak. I was happy that my father, wise and knowing, like me, had decided to name me something other than Oak or Oakes or Oakley. I knew way too many Oaks and Oakleys. It was nice to be unique.

I staggered out of bed. My father had laid out my nice clothes out for me. My mother wasn't there; she'd been gone for 15 years. She died when I was 2 in a severe accident. I never really knew her, so I don't feel her loss much, but my dad still misses her each and every day.

I put on the outfit; old, worn khaki pants and a lime green dress shirt that my dad bought for my birthday two weeks ago. I also put on my work boots, the only shoes I owned.

My work boots were coated in a layer of mud, pine needles, and crumbled leaves. I worked part time as a lumberjack to help get food on the table for me and my father. I still went to school, since my father wanted a better life for me, but my work was necessary to keep us alive. Because I worked, we rarely were hungry.

My father had dressed up in jeans and a gray t-shirt, his own muddy work boots laced onto his feet. We sat down at our scarred oak kitchen table with only two chairs. Our tiny little apartment suited our small family well.

My dad laid out two plates of breakfast; some buttered toast. I munched it up in a heartbeat, and so did my father. Then we walked out of the apartment, down the stairwell, and into the streets.

I knocked my boots against the sidewalk, getting some of the caked mud off of them. My father did the same, and we left a broken trail of mud chips behind us as we walked down to the square.

When we reached the square, my father patted me on the back and walked over to two work friends who were also at the Reaping with their own kids. I spotted my four best friends, and I ran over.

All five of us were 17; there were my two buddies who also worked at the lumbermill part time, named Terry and Spruce. Spruce was my best best friend. Then the other two were girls; Rose was Terry's cousin and also a good friend, and Grace was Spruce's girlfriend of three years, and also my neighbor. All of us were interconnected and the best of friends.

We walked over to attendance together. The woman asked my name first.

"Chen Evoncurst, age 17," I told her. She nodded, pricking my finger.

There had been a time when I had not had these friends, and when it took me a long time to respond to people like the attendance woman. I had been deathly shy for most of my childhood, and around age 15 I'd grown out of it and met my best friends. But for the first 15 years of my life, I was the shy kid in our school.

I walked into the 17 year old boys pen, and Spruce and Terry weren't far behind. We talked and joked, and I spotted Rose and Grace on the other side of the square in the 17 year old girl's pen. The escort, Dyanna, took the stage, and talked and showed the video. Then she drew the girl's name.

"Bethany Taylor!" she yelled. A 16 year old girl climbed onto the stage. Rose and Grace were safe.

"Chen Evoncurst!" Dyanna screeched. I stood stock still, scared out of my wits. Spruce actually began to cry, and I could hear Rose and Grace wailing from the other side of the square. Terry, tears in his eyes, carefully patted me on the back, and I walked onto the stage.

I looked at my friends, and at my father, who was quieted by shock, and I knew I would have to fight tooth and nail to come back to them

...

A/N: Yes! The Reapings are officially DONE! Let's celebrate with cake! *hands out cake to all readers.*

Okay, so next chapter should probably be goodbyes/train rides. I think I'll do half the Districts for goodbyes and the other half for train rides. What do you think about that?

Then, I have two questions:

1\. Who's your Top 3 favorites?

2\. Who do you Top 3 least favorites?

Thanks for reading, as always!

Until next time!

-Tracee


	10. Goodbyes and Train Rides

_**Goodbyes**_

 _..._

 _Bethany Taylor, District 7_

Yetta and Panema rushed in, weeping, their eyes round, fully open, red. My dad walked them in, and he too was choking back tears. We all hugged, hugged very, very tightly, and I tried to keep down the knot of emotions from rising up. Sadness, anger, confusion all surged within me, but I kept it down. I kept down for the sake of my family. One skill you must learn to be socially adept; you need to be able to hide your emotions from people so they think you're always happy go lucky. So I pushed down my emotions and banished them to the deepest depths of my soul.

My family grudgingly left, and I kissed both my sisters before they left. Then a flock of twenty plus friends crowded the room, Jeremy at their front. They all hugged me and kissed me and cried and wished me sweet goodbyes. Jeremy hugged me the tightest, and I felt something deep in my chest. Affection. But I didn't have time to figure the emotion out before it faded; I buried everything even deeper and watched as my friends funneled out of the room.

Just before I was about to leave, my mom rushed in, still dressed in her factory uniform. She was crying hard, and she hugged me tight.

"Goodbye, baby. Goodbye," she whispered in my ear, and then the Peacekeepers were dragging her away, leaving me all alone. All alone with the buried emotions.

...

 _Caitlin Theardie, District 5_

Ria was the very first person in the room, even before my grandmother. She practically tackled me upon entering, tears dripping down her smooth, pale face.

"No, Cait, no," she whispered. "I...I can't lose my only friend."

"I'm in shape, Ria," I told her, calming her down. Wasn't I the one going into the Games? Shouldn't she be the one calming me down?!

"Yes, you're in shape, but do you know how to wield a weapon?" Ria asked.

"A few Victors have won by hiding out till the end. And I'm a fast learner; if I focus on a weapon in training, I'll be good at it."

Ria lapsed into silence, realizing she was getting no where. I patted her shoulder, and we hugged again. Then she left, and my grandmother was wheeled in.

"Are you leaving, dear?" she asked slowly, tiredly.

"Yes, grandma. Mr. Tussix will take care of you, I think, until I get back," I told her.

"You cannot leave me, Caitlin! What if the wolf-deer munch you up!"

"There are no wolf-deer, grandmother."

"Then the hummingbirds or the cheetahs!"

She was listing mutts from previous Games. Maybe her mind was sharp, still. I hugged her before she was wheeled away. Then I was left to wait until I was loaded onto the train.

...

 _Steale Boeing, District 6_

I sat in the back room, dreading when my parents would come back. My mother would almost definitely be a sobbing, mucus-ey mess, and my father would be cold and passionless, only thinking that he'd have to hire a new worker to build his engines. I squeezed my eyes shut as the door squealed open.

It was a Peacekeeper, telling me that no one had come to visit me.

My heart slowed and I bit down hard on my cheek as the door swung closed. Where was my mother, at least? Where was she?

She finally showed up a minute before we had to depart. She had scratches on her face, and dried tear trails framed her beautiful gray-green eyes.

"Where were you?!" I asked as I rushed into her arms.

"Your father went berserk when you were called up. He scratched me, and...the Peacekeepers shot him before he could hurt anyone else."

I bit my lip, waiting for an onslaught of emotion, but none came. I guessed I really hadn't loved my father.

I embraced my mother once more before I was escorted away from her, away from everything I loved.

It was only then that I realized only my mother would be eating the blueberry muffins.

...

 _Camillie Montegro, District 12_

My parents walked in, and Wendie was folded in their arms. She was crying hard, her body shaken by the force of the tears. I rushed towards them, and all four of us locked in a tight embrace.

"Who...who's gonna go to the garden?" Wendie asked, rubbing her bloodshot eyes as more tears poured forth. "Who's gonna go on Wessday?"

I began to cry silently, biting my lip as I crushed Wendie in my arms.

"You will, my Wendie. You'll take care of the garden with Mama and Papa, and someday I might come back and help, too. I just have to leave, and I might not come back, baby girl."

"Why won't you come back?" Wendie whimpered.

"I...I will come back," I said shakily. I hugged Wendie again, and then asked to talk to my parents alone for a moment. I quickly wiped away my tears and looked at them seriously.

"Don't let her watch when they kill me," I told them. Then they hugged me, nodding, and they left, leaving me, probably forever.

...

 _Dameon Xaine, District 2_

Baylor, Bailey, Mom, and Dad all walked in; I didn't see Dy'lan. They all hugged me, smiling, like this was all a party. In their eyes, it was. My sisters envied me and my parents were proud, thinking this was what I wanted. But Dy'lan's words had distracted me. He had told me not to volunteer, not to leave him, too. I pushed away the thoughts of him as my family, minus Dy'lan, embraced me. The Peacekeepers said I had one more visitor.

Dy'lan pushed past my family angrily, ignoring them, and he slammed the door behind him.

"I told you to not volunteer," he growled.

"I've been working for a long time, Dy'lan. I can do this."

"You'll get killed, stupid, like the Garry kid."

"It's my choice, Dy'lan."

"So you're committing suicide?"

"You're not even really family any more, Dy'lan! Just...just get out."

He narrowed his eyes at me, wiping away a stray tear.

"I thought you were the one with common sense, Dameon," he said. "I thought wrong."

...

 _Andrea Matches, District 9_

Greta and my father came with Mia to say goodbye. Greta watched smugly and my father's embrace was loose and meaningless. Mia, though, squeezed the living daylights out of me, hugging me so hard I eventually had to push her off so I could gasp in a breath. Mia and I stayed together until Greta and my father made her leave, and I swore under my breath. Now, all the abuse would be centered on her. That just made me want to weep.

My three friends, Barley, Casey, and Ada, came in. Barley. My heart thumped. Stupid delusions. I had never thought about Barley that way, but he was handsome. But that could never be.

We hugged and talked, and Ada and Casey left before Barley. He sat with me.

"I saw how you were looking at-" he began, but I shushed him.

"There isn't room for love, Barley. I'm going to have to kill people. I can't have space taken up by fragments of sudden feeling distracting me during the Games, though I suspect it's much too late for that."

"I...I just want you to know, your compassion is not unrequited." With that, he left, not even hugging me goodbye.

So much for not having feelings during the Games.

...

 _Hailea Himalayan, District 11_

Only Heidi was there to visit me. She snarled at me, saying that this final goodbye was a good thing, that I influenced Mom's depression by being a downer, too. She believed, with me gone, Mom's mental health would improve. I knew that it would only deteriorate.

"Go die well out there, Hail," she cackled, and then the Peacekeepers escorted her away.

"Are you alright? Who was that woman?" a Peacekeeper asked sincerely.

"My sister," I muttered, narrowing my eyes at Heidi's disappearing form.

...

 _ **Train Rides**_

...

 _Olivanna Sanatorium, District 6_

The Peacekeepers helped me onto the train, and Steale and I sat down along with our escort, Tanya Sydson. Tanya was a striking, beautiful woman. Our Mentor, Calla Espenson, Victor of the 9th Hunger Games, was the only Victor not stuck in a train crash. All the other Victors had been driven to the Capitol for a program celebrating the decade anniversary of the Games. Calla had been excused because of health reasons. Their train had crashed on the way back, and they were all stranded. The Capitol Mentors had been supplied for all the other Districts.

The dinner was nice and quiet, with little more than pleasantries passed between Tanya, Calla, Steale, and myself. Calla seemed trapped in her mind, Steale was preoccupied with something that made his mouth curl in an ugly frown, and Tanya was cheerfully oblivious. I remained mostly quiet until the end of the meal, where I walked up to an Avox.

"May I have paper and a pencil?" I asked. She fetched the items, and then I retreated into my room and drew a grid. I turned on the TV and watched the Reaping program, writing down all the tributes. I saw my own face, surprised then ice cold, flash across the screen, as Tanya's loud voice boomed through the squsre.

"Olivanna Sanatorium!"

I bit my cheek, and began to make my bets with myself, even though I was biased in my own direction. There were some obvious weaklings: the District 3 twins, the District 9 male, the District 10 male, and the District 11 female. There were also some strong ones; the District 1 male, both from 2, and the District 4 female, along with others. I wrote which place I thought they'd come in.

Vainly, next to my name, I wrote a giant number one and circled it, pressing so hard that I ripped a hole in the paper.

...

 _Emmer Schuliare, District 5_

"Statistically, there's a 2 in 24 chance that either of us will make it home. But, with the odds in factor, you never know."

Soprana, our escort, looked bored out of her mind. Caitlin seemed to be dreamy, and Askia was staring at me like I'd dropped some tear gas into his favorite penthouse. Already, they were ignoring or hating me. I laughed to myself as I stabbed some pork chop with the much too shiny knife.

"And there's also a 24 in 24 chance that none of you give a damn."

No one argued, and Askia's brow furrowed even more, so I shut up. I finished dinner and ran into my room, where I let my feelings be actually felt for the first time that day.

I was separated from the my parents and friends, probably forever. The odds were most definitely not in my favor. I flipped on the Reapings on the TV. I needed to find a strong ally that could help me.

When I spotted the girl from 2, Serephina Manchas, I knew she'd be a good fit. So would be the District 4 girl or the District 2 male. They all looked like strong, capable tributes who would be happy to have a brainy ally. Serephina seemed the best, though. She seemed so...Victor-like.

I thought about allies as I drifted off to sleep.

...

 _Catherine Spark, District 3_

Me and my brother, hand in hand, walked onto the train. We sat down at the table, where our escort, Rwanda Uggisil, and our Capitol Mentor, Uriel Fless, waited patiently. We all civilly ate our meal with manners once the food was laid out by the Avoxes.

"So, you're twins?" Uriel asked after a while to break the awkward silence.

"Yep," I whispered, taking a bite of steaming baked potato.

"Hmm. Interesting," Uriel said. That was about it for conversation.

After dinner, Cameron and I retreated to our side-by-side rooms. I snuck into his and snuggled against his chest.

"I'm worried, Cam. Both of us can't win."

"We don't need to worry, Catherine. That's all far, far away. I love you, sis. That's all that matters."

I nodded, knowing he was right, and I hugged him tight as we fell asleep, two twins entwined.

 _..._

 _Kiera Waters, District 4_

My District partner, Christopher, kept staring at the V-neckline of my outfit, and I rolled my eyes. I knew I was attractive, but he was staring too hard, like he'd done this before. I shuddered.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Pervert," I murmured under my breath as we walked into the dining car. Our escort, Tiny, and our Capitol Mentor, Huda, were waiting at the table. We sat down, and I made sure not to talk to Christopher. He was staring at me creepily again, and thankfully both Tiny and Huda heard my wordless cries for help. It's a thing all women understand.

"Um, Christopher, something entertaining you over there?" Huda asked quietly as our meals were brought out. We began to eat.

"N...no," he whispered, watching me, his eyes tracing the curves of my body. I shivered.

"Maybe you should focus on your food," Tiny mentioned. He continued to stare, oblivious. Disgusting.

I knew who I was killing first after the gong rang.

 _..._

A/N: So hey! Goodbyes and train rides are over. I have three questions:

1\. Favorite POV this chapter

2\. Least favorite POV this chapter

3\. Who do you want to see for the next chapter (Parade/Chariot rides)

Also, Alliances: You can make alliances together as long as everyone concerned is okay with their tributes being in the alliance. I'd like to know about alliances ASAP, so think about it good and hard. If anyone who owns the tributes that I've already paired disagrees with the alliance (like Emmer and Serephina) just PM me about it and we'll work it out.

And, one more thing: Sponsor System. Each tribute, you get 5 sponsor points, and each review, you get 1. This is what items cost:

1 meal: 2 sponsor points

Water: 2 sponsor points

Other survival gear (I'll decide in PM): 1-4 points

Weapons:

Daggers/Small Knives/Awls/Ninja stars: 3 points

Big knives/short swords/maces/nunchucks: 5 points

Swords/spears/bows/tridents/whips/flail/other: 6 points

Medicine: 2-5 points, depending on injury

I hope that sorts things out! If you have questions, PM me!

Until next time,

Tracee


	11. Remakes and Chariot Rides

_Burlap Thomasson, District 8_

Molly, our escort, knocked on the door to wake me up. I slid out of bed and saw that an Avox had laid out an outfit for me; khaki trousers with a cornflower blue dress shirts and light brown dress shoes. I put on the expensive clothes and then went into the bathroom, where I combed down my mangy sandy blonde hair and buttoned the dress shirt. Then I left my room and stepped into the dining car.

The Capitol Mentor, Iygra Pennerhill, smiled at me happily. Iygra was a good Mentor, the best. She could form almost anyone into Victor material. Most of her tributes made it past the bloodbath, and many years she had one or two tributes in the Top 12, and she'd had several tributes in the Final 8.

Holly made her way into the dining car, and then the four of us ate a small, quiet breakfast of bacon, scrambled eggs, and cheesy potatoes. I finished a glass of milk, and then Molly said that the Capitol was ready to receive Holly and I. Holly was wearing a cute little white dress. I smiled at her, and we held hands loosely as we walked to the door that would deposit us onto the platform.

The second Holly and I stepped off of the train, we were met by the screams of hundreds of adoring Capitols. They enjoyed the Games, lived for the Games. It was then that I realized that these crazed fans would watch at least either Holly or myself's blood spill across the arena floor. That feeling made my stomach sour, and my smile was manufactured.

We walked off of the platform and down the promenade, Iygra and Molly behind us. At the end of the street was the big, round, ovular building where our appearances would be refashioned.

The Remake Center.

 _..._

 _Walter Inlaen, District 12_

My Prep team seemed delighted after finding that I apparently had several layers of dead skin cells just begging to be scrubbed away with all sorts of curved metal instruments. It was completely uncomfortable for them to analyze me, to pick me apart and put me back together. I squeezed my eyes shut as one of them, Taurus, poured more cold water into the sleek metal tub. He dropped several pink and magenta capsules into the bath, and they exploded into a forest of frosty pink bubbles. Warm water was added, and more suds, too. Soon I could barely keep my head up as Taurus scrubbed my back with a curved instrument that he said killed hair on the back. I just shivered whenever the bent end of the wand like object was stroked down my back, somehow stunting my follicles. Taurus was impressed I knew the word follicles. He must have thought I was a simple minded brute without a day of schooling under my belt. Stupid Capitols.

After I was finally fished out of the bath, I was dried with several plush towels. I looked around for clothing, but there was none.

"Um, no clothing?" I wondered aloud, turning to Taurus. His garishly pink dyed skin made me want to puke. His eyebrow quirked as he smiled, and several piercings on his face tinkled and shimmered in the light. I shuddered as Taurus shook his head.

"We have to assess your physical condition so we know how to dress you."

To my disbelief, when I walked into the next room, two women, both with their skin dyed shades of green, were waiting. Their names were Penrose and Jomba, and they were the other two on my Prep Team. Women. Staring at my naked body. I cringed as they studied me, eyes lingering on my abdomen, which was highlighted with a faint 6-pack, and then their eyes swooped down, and I gulped.

"Natural will be the best angle with him," Penrose announced after a while.

"Agreed," Jomba and Taurus said together.

"Now, let's see which types of makeup look the best against your skin tone. You can't go out completely bare..." Penrose said, whipping out a large palette of flesh toned powder. There were at least three hundred different shades. Penrose advanced, smiling.

"Makeup?!" I said.

"Makeup," Jomba said, smiling, as they tried to keep me from cringing away from the silky, powder coated makeup brush.

 _..._

 _Natalia General, District 1_

Geronimo, a hulking man who was my Stylist, was waiting for me after my Prep team had finished analyzing and dissecting me. He was dressed in a tight, charcoal gray dress shirt and nicely pressed black dress pants. His sleek, shiny black dress shoes glimmered and clicked on the tile as he walked over to me.

"Natalia," he said, grabbing my hand in a tight squeeze, shaking it. "I am Geronimo Igorson, your Stylist for this 10th Hunger Games."

Geronimo seemed so formal, so rehearsed. He probably thought I was going to die. I tried not to roll my eyes as Geronimo led me over to two cushioned gray chairs that sat, facing each other. We sat, and an Avox appeared, offering us mugs of green tea. I happily accepted, while Geronimo asked for black coffee. The Avox rushed off to fulfill his request while I breathed in the steam radiating from my cup. I loved a good mug of tea. It reminded me of home, when my mother would cook up two cups, one for me, one for Velvet.

Velvet. Velvet Sanarra. The girl I'd saved. The girl I'd known forever. The girl I had sacrificed myself for because of some stupid rush of feeling that was beyond friendship. I hoped she lived well and long, for my blood would be spilled to save her.

Geronimo startled me from my reverie.

"Natalia?" he asked.

"Sorry," I murmured, taking a long sip from my tea. "I zoned out."

Geronimo had pulled out a thick, fat notebook with a silvery metal cover. Inside were sketches of all kinds. As he thumbed through the pages, the Avox arrived, carrying his coffee. He snatched it from her and took a very long sip before shooing the girl and turning his attention back to the notebook and to me.

He finally found the right page and displayed it to me, smiling.

"Your chariot ride outfits," he said.

On the two pages, two different people with two different pencils had sketched outfits, one for a girl, the other for a boy. They were both made of thin, golden lace studded with golden buttons and baubles that displayed the wealth of District 1. The boy's outfit was a solid gold vest over a lacy gold shirt with small golden shorts over lacy golden leggings. The girl's design was a flowing, lacy golden dress with a solid gold, tight fitting bodice inside that covered all key parts of my body. Both of us would have thin strips of golden styled in our hair that would mimic the crown Victors got after winning the Games. It was beautiful, spectacular. Geronimo must have figured out from my expression.

"It's all going to be your's," Geronimo said with a thin smile, his eyes alight.

 _..._

 _Chen Evoncurst, District 7_

Rotunda, my Stylist, met up with Bethany's Stylist, Keracca. Bethany was also with Keracca. The four of us sat down in a studio space overlooking the Capitol. Rotunda, Bethany, and Keracca chatted politely, and both Stylists were caught on Bethany's every word. She was a great speaker and people-person. I wasn't so lucky. I had been shy most of my life, so social skills were a struggle for me.

I mainly looked out at the metallic spires of the Capitol's extravagant skyscrapers until the Prep Teams wheeled in our full outfits on gleaming golden racks. They unzipped the bags, revealing costumes made of rich and expensive...

Tree bark?

The outfits crackled as they were taken out of the bags, and Bethany seemed as confused as I was.

"How aren't these going to break?" Bethany asked as she inspected her maple bark dress.

"They're specially glued and put together, don't worry," Rotunda said. She then turned to me. "Here. Take everything off and put this on. We need to see how it fits."

"E...everything?" I murmured.

"Everything."

"How is that comfortable and fair to a guy?"

"Pain is beauty," Keracca chimed from the other side of the room, where Bethany was changing into her dress behind a screen.

I went behind my own changing screen and slowly took off all of my clothes except my underwear. Screw what they were saying. There was no way I was going into that bark outfit completely in the nude. It would hurt more than necessary.

I came out, staggering, trying not to crack the oak bark pants and suit coat. At least they'd let me wear an olive green t-shirt underneath the bark blazer.

"Are you wearing underpants?!" Rotunda growled after inspecting how to outfit fit.

"Surely," I said, and refused to change.

"Stupid, stuck up brat," I heard Rotunda hiss to one of my Prep Team, who seemed bewildered.

Bethany walked over, looking pretty good in her bark dress, and she smiled.

"Feels weird, right?" she said, shifting the dress on her body.

"Very," I murmured. Rotunda eventually got over her fit and let me wear my boxers under the bark pants. Then it was time to head down to the chariots.

 _..._

 _Serephina Manchas, District 2_

"Perfect," Triala, my Stylist, murmured.

The white dress, imitating that of an ancient, ancient Olympian goddess, fit my body perfectly, showing off my curvy figure without be overly seductive or revealing. Dameon was dress in a white kilt-like thing with a white mesh shirt to show off his well defined 8-pack. Most girls would have swooned over Dameon, and I'd caught him looking at me once, but romance had no place here, in this world of the Hunger Games. In the Games, infatuation and love could only get you killed.

They clipped an inflexible golden hoop around my waist that they sized down to fit. It would act as a belt of sorts. They draped strings of rubies in my hair and affixed glimmering pearl earrings to my ear lobes. A skinny silver necklace went around my neck, and my arms were wrapped in brass bracelets of all shapes and sizes. I wore tall, leather gladiator boots that went up to my knees. I looked like a deity, a goddess, a ruler, a queen, a Victor.

We strode down to the elevators, where we rode to the bottom floor of the Remake Center. The elevator doors opened, revealing a large underground chamber where the chariots awaited. District 1's chariot was already full, and the horses, prancing, were about to go out.

"Go, go, go!" Triala said. "Get on quick!"

Dameon and I hopped into our silvery chariot just as the golden-dressed District 1's rode out in their chariot. The crowd screamed their approval.

I looked at the two mares pulling our chariot; palominos, which accented our outfits and silver chariot nicely. They called out chariot forward, and then we were on the promenade.

The screams were even louder, and Dameon and I raised our hands, basking in the power that surged through us as the Capitol chanted our names.

I wanted to feel like that forever.

 _..._

 _Paxa Monehill, Capitol Citizen, Tabloid Photographer, Age 23_

Dear Panem! District 1's outfits were stunning! Natalia and Cephas looked spectacular, simply _gorge,_ in those lacy golden outfits! And so tantalizingly seductive; they're barely covered! Oh, how the Capitol swooned over these two wonders! I snapped a good dozen photos of District 1's chariot as it rolled down the promenade, towards the City Circle, where President Gaius Snow will welcome them wholeheartedly. I took one last picture of Natalia and Cephas before turning to the District 2 chariot.

Damn! Dameon and Serephina had already outdone District 1! They looked literally like deities! Magnificent! My camera exploded with pictures of them as I snapped two dozen from various angles. Serephina and Dameon raised their arms, grinning, enjoying it as the crowd screamed for them. I got a picture of them like that. Perfect for the front page of an article my friend, Cas, had been writing.

District 3 had outdone themselves as well! Short yet cute little Cameron and Catherine literally shined as their outfits, made out of thousands of little bronze wires, pulsated with different colors. A new, imaginative outfit design for District 3!

District 4 was underwhelming, but Kiera and Christopher looked pretty good in their navy sailor's outfits, although Kiera seemed bothered to be standing so close to Christopher, and she shook away his hand when he tried to grab hers. Was that unrequited love I smelled?

District 5 was a little blinding. Caitlin and Emmer were dressed in neon yellow outfits to resemble energy, I'm guessing. A little too debilitating for my taste. I think the woman next to me passed out because it was so bright. Or was that because she'd downed 5 martinis since Cephas and Natalia rode out?

District 6 was per usual; Steale and Olivanna were dressed in sleek, metallic outfits symbolic of the trains, hovercraft, and other vehicles their District produces. Nothing special from 6 during the parade this year.

District 7 tried to do a new spin on the tree thing, and it sort of worked? The bark was cool, but it broke in a few places by the time Chen and Bethany got into the chariot because, you know, it's bark. So it looked pretty bad with it all cracked if that's not what you're intending to do. But if the cracks were intentional, great job! They look battle ready!

District 8 was a flashy mural of fabrics and colors yet again, this time on the tributes Holly and Burlap. I'd never thought I'd say this, but the every-color-and-fabric-known-to-man-outfit thing was starting to get sort of stale and old. Time to move on, Stylists of District 8!

District 9 was dressed up like stalks of amber wheat. Andrea and Calix rocked their costumes. Better than most of District 9's outfits in previous years, but still not great.

District 10 was dressed up like cowboys. Geez, no! Poor Bianca and Bison. At least they didn't dress Bison up like a, well, bison. But the cowboy getup is just awful. I feel bad for the kids.

District 11 was dressed as plants, to symbolize the stalks the fruits and vegetables they produce come from. Theodore certainly has the beanpole body type to be a plant stalk, but Hailea was sure a stunted little plant! (No offense to short people.)

District 12 was, as always, in baggy miner's outfits. Always trashy, always terrible. They always get new stylists but they never improve! Sigh. Poor Camillie and Walter. At least Walter's used to it; he is a miner back in 12 every day.

That's a recap on the Tribute Parade!

...

A/N: So there's a few things to talk about!

One is alliances. This is what I'm thinking. If you want to add/subtract anything, just tell me.

For the Career-ish Alliance: Cephas Gold, Natalia General, Dameon Xaine, Serephina Manchas, Kiera Waters, and Emmer Schuliare

Maybe for the Careers, break it into 2 alliances: Cephas, Natalia, and Dameon vs. Serephina, Kiera, and Emmer, or something like that.

Other alliances:

Holly and Andrea

Chen and Bethany

Camillie, Olivanna, Catherine & Cameron

Caitlin and Bianca

Also, I've recently decided I am going to deviate from canon for this entire series, so Victors can be from 12 and be under age 14. Those limits just seem too...limiting, I guess, to my creativity. So yes, Camillie, Walter, Hailea, and the Spark twins could be actual Victor candidates.

Another thing: Someone asked me in a PM if you can sponsor other tributes than your own. The answer is absolutely! If I end up killing your tribute(s) off early, you are welcome to sponsor any tribute you like. Or, if you just plain like other tributes better than your own, you can sponsor them, too.

Also, as always:

1\. Favorite POV

2\. Least Favorite POV

3\. Who you want to see for the first day of training (next chapter)

That's it! Until next time!

-Tracee


	12. Training Day 1

_Bison Seville, District 10_

I woke up to the sound of my Avox, annoyed, rapping on my bedside table loudly. I groaned, rolling out of bed tiredly. Even this harsh, rough Avox had a hard time waking me. That thought made me smile as threw off the covers.

The Avox had laid out a stretchy black shirt and baggy black pants, our training outfit. My District number, 10, was plastered everywhere in bright, flashy silver. I slipped on sleek cotton socks and black running shoes with stretchy laces. The laces were silver, too. Everything was cohesive, matching, modern, unlike my tattered jeans and muddy t-shirts back home.

I walked out of my room, ignoring the Avox. Bianca was all in a fluster because I'd awoken late, and our breakfast wouldn't come out until both of us were awake. Bianca seemed like a real fiery one, but she seemed strong, and that sort of spiciness attracted Capitol sponsors, so I wouldn't judge. At least she had a strategy.

Breakfast was swiftly delivered by a trio of Avoxes, including the brusque one that had awakened me this morning. Scrambled eggs, peppered bacon, honey glazed ham, buttery biscuits, jam coated toast, pitchers of orange juice and milk, and Belgian waffles with chocolate chips made up our extravagant breakfast. I made sure not to eat too much because today was the first day of training. If I ate too much, I might just barf all over the Gamemakers, and I'd "accidentally" get blown up the second the gong rang.

After eating, our Capitol Mentor, Tassel Fyns, a model and ex-anti-rebellion-propaganda star, walked Bianca and I to the elevator. It was a short ride down, but Tassel said that if you were from District 1, the ride took less than a second. It took us about 8 to shoot from the 10th floor to ground level.

We exited the elevator and trotted over to a sleek, girthy metal stairway that led down to the training room below. We walked down it, and after going through another door, we were in the training area.

Dozens of stations ringed the outsides of the room, and one giant obstacle course sat in the middle. I remembered the obstacle course; it was obligatory, and we would compete on it tomorrow. Today was just a day to be on your own and learn some new talents.

The Head Trainer, newly appointed this year, waited for everyone. Most of the tributes were already circled around him; the only District missing was 4. We got there right on time, and Bianca and I jogged over to the man. District 4 popped out of nowhere; Kiera was frowning, and Christopher seemed scared and weak, and he had a black eye. They walked over, and then the man began to talk.

"Hello! I am Rhesus Athenodotes, your Head Trainer for this 10th Hunger Games. Around you, as you can see, are the training stations. You have free roam of the stations, but you should be training in some way at all times besides lunch. I'll outline the stations for you." He pointed to his left. "Those are the weapons stations, including, but not limited to, archery, swords, spears, knives, and sickles. To my right are the survival stations. Some important ones are snares, fire starting, edible plants and insects, and tree climbing. By the door you came in are the other stations; weight lifting, boxing, and wrestling. And then, right here in the middle, is our grand obstacle course, the Gauntlet. You will all have to cross it tomorrow, or at least attempt to."

"You will be training for 3 days; on the 4th day, you will be evaluated by the Gamemakers and given a score from 1 to 12. A 1 has never been scored before; it means that you are so utterly unable to function that you would die if someone did not hand feed you every single day. A 12 is for exemplary tributes who showcase so much prowess that they have great odds, much greater than all the other tributes. Usually, if it is awarded, there is only a single 12 per year. Some of you seem capable of getting a 12; I doubt anyone this year will do worse than a 3 or 4."

"Also, there are instructors and sparring partners at each station. If you engage in conflict with other tributes before the Games officially start, you may be _disqualified,"_ Rhesus said, all of us knowing what disqualified meant. It meant that your guts would litter the ground the second the gong rang.

"Now, no more than 3 tributes at a station at once. Now, go enjoy your day!" Rhesus cried. Everyone was off like a shot, looking for a good place to start.

I walked over to snares, where a weathered looking woman smiled weakly at me when I crouched beside her.

"Hi," she said softly. "My name is Bactria. I am your trainer for this station. Do you have any knowledge of snares?"

 _..._

 _Christopher Tidesworth, District 4_

I didn't mean to cause a fight. Kiera and I were eating breakfast, she dropped her fork, and I went to pick it up. Our hands brushed together, and both of our hands were wrapped around the fork. I held on one second too long, and then I tried to hand it to her, and I stabbed her in the hand. An accident, purely, but Kiera wailed about me being a "perverted walrus" before she punched me with the hand that had bloody tine marks in it. Our Capitol Mentor, Huda Rasmus, pulled me aside, very serious. She told me that they might "disqualify" me for "instigating" a fight before the Games begin. Kiera, who I'd dedicated my heart and soul to, hated me. The Capitol saw me as a traitor, one that had committed treason, one that could easily be done away with because of a simple mistake.

We got to training two minutes late. Kiera was even more furious, and Tiny, our escort, got in a huff. Only Huda was understanding, yet when she had talked to me, she had acted as if she were speaking to a 2 year old. It just made me want to punch something. So I did.

The second Rhesus released us, I sprinted over to boxing. The instructor, Timeus, had me put on gloves and then go at it against a punching bag. I let all my feelings and a couple of loud grunts out as I pummeled the bag so hard it felt as though it might fall from the cord it was suspended on. I gave one last, desperate punch, and then I was tired out.

I headed over to edible plants, bypassing a real boxing match with Timeus. The instructor had me play this matching game; any plant pair I matched that flashed green was good, and it gave me a close of up the plant, what it was called, and what it did. For pairs of the same plant that were bad, the screen lit up red and warned me of the dangers of the plant. If a pair didn't match, the screen lit up yellow. I spent most of the day there, matching plants until lunch.

I sat alone. Kiera sat in a big group with a bunch of other strong, capable people. An alliance. I had no one. I managed to keep the tears from slipping down my face.

 _..._

 _Cephas Gold, District 1_

The moment Rhesus was finished, I found myself walking with Dameon to swords. Dameon mentioned he preferred katanas, but I had no idea what those were. He explained that they were a type of swords. I had always thought that swords were swords. Keith had never given me an education on what weapons were called beyond their basic name. We mostly just worked on fighting and pure physical activity.

The swords instructor, Dollie, was only 19 and was very beautiful. She was slender and short, but she could work a sword, hacking apart mannequins with ease as she showed us correct form. She tossed us two swords, and we began slaughtering, too, just as good as her, if not better.

"Trained, I see?" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"No!" Dameon said innocently, smiling playfully. "We were born with these skills, straight outta the womb!"

"I was born with a sword," I said, winking, and Dollie just rolled her eyes.

We stayed with Dollie for a while longer, and then we went over to spears. I was decent with a spear, but Dameon was pretty bad. I had to remember that. While it was all fun and games, playing around during training and being best buds, one of us was going to have to die. Hopefully it was Dameon.

After experimenting with spears, it was lunch time. Dameon and I sat down together at the biggest table, and Serephina and Kiera, who both obviously had been trained as well, sat down with us naturally. Two more people came; my District partner, Natalia, who was decent with throwing knives, the District 5 boy, Emmer, who'd been hanging around with Serephina. I guess an all brawn alliance needed some brains, so we all let him stay.

"To an alliance?" I asked, raising my cup of water.

"To the Strong and Mighty!" Emmer cried, and all 6 of us clinked our glasses together in the celebration of our great new alliance, the Strong and Mighty.

 _..._

 _Caitlin Theardie, District 5_

After Rhesus released us, I jogged over to archery. The only reason I was here was because Soprana and Askia had heard about my lateness at the Repaings, and had awoken me a half hour earlier than Emmer. Still, Emmer made it down to training six minutes before me; I made it in at the last second, just before the District 10 pair came in.

Another girl, Holly, was already there, obviously inept with a bow and arrows. I was okay; at school, we'd done this unit on archery in physical education once, and I was in the top 6 shooters in our class. I remembered how to fit my fingers around the string without any help from the much too talkative instructor, Fifi. I nocked the arrow, slim and metal, just like the curved bow, pulled up, pulled the string back as far as I could, and let it go. The target had four sections; a red bullseye, a thin yellow ribbon around the bullseye, a medium sized circle of blue around the first two circles, and the rest of the circular target was white. My first arrow hit the section between the white and blue. Two more arrows hit right in the middle of the blue, and a fourth almost touched the yellow ring around the bullseye.

"Good shooter, eh?" a girl asked. Holly had disappeared, replaced by the girl from 10. Bella? I ignored her, nocking another arrow and firing. It hit the yellow.

Sixth arrow. I pulled the string back, and 10 interrupted me just as I let go.

"Ignoring me?" The girl distracted me, and the arrow didn't even hit the target. I turned to her furious. She extended her hand, smiling slyly.

"Bianca Catalano at your service."

I just huffed, turning away from her and firing a seventh arrow. It hit the blue, but it dug in so hard that only the feathers on the ends were not buried in the thick target.

Bianca nocked her bow and hit an arrow in the white. Two mores arrow in the white for her, as I got another in the yellow. We shot dozens more arrows. I got one in the red, but it wasn't an exact bullseye. Bianca made it into the blue but didn't get much farther than that.

"I'm better with throwing knives, I promise. Give me some bow pointers, and I'll give you some knife pointers."

Fifi, the trainer, tried to step in, but I ignored her and showed Bianca how to hold the bow. She got in the yellow her first try in the correct stance.

We then went over to knives. Bianca hit her target 4 out of 5 times, while I only hit it once out of five tries. She showed me how to position my body and things like that, so eventually, just before lunch, I was getting 3 out of 5.

I didn't know how it happened, but then we were sitting at lunch, talking like friends. Bianca was a firecracker, sassy and not to be messed with. Just like me.

We never made an official alliance that day, but I had a feeling we would within the next two days. I had made an unintentional friend. One I'd have to kill if I were to return home.

 _..._

 _Steale Boeing, District 6_

I didn't know what would happen at training. Maybe I'd meet an ally. Maybe I'd witness a fight. Maybe I'd discover a hidden talent with maces or bows or daggers.

I learned that I sucked at lighting fires.

The instructor, Ivettina, got so worked up after an hour of trying to get me to strike the flint correctly a create a spark that she dismissed me from the station, saying I was hopeless.

I learned that maces weigh like seventy pounds.

I tried to lift the mace and found that I could barely drag it off of the rack and onto the practice platform. The instructor there, after trying to get me to lift the mace for ten minutes, commented that I might succeed elsewhere.

At least, at knots, I didn't suck. I did fairly, even good. But what will knots get you in the Games?! They can't kill or get food or get water. The only thing they might be good for is to impress sponsors. But who would be watching a boy in the woods tying a knot and say "Wow, so cool, I'll give him a crossbow with five hundred bolts!" No, they only do stuff like that for the killers, the butchers, the murderers, the ones who kill the most people and put on a fantastic show. Those people always win. Boys who tie knots do not win the Hunger Games. Boys who kill boys like me do.

 _..._

 _Hailea Himalayan, District 11_

After the Head Trainer, Rhesus, finished talking, I found myself at a loss for what station to go to. I spotted a fellow youngster, Bison, age 13. I walked over to where he was setting snares.

"Hi!" the instructor said. "I'm Bactria; I'm working on a twitch up snare with Bison. You can watch and then I'll get the supplies for you to try and make one, too!"

I knelt beside Bison and watched as he set up a trap that would ensnare an animal. Once Bactria gave me supplies, I mimicked his model, and he and I began to talk kindly as we worked on a harder type of snare to construct. We spent a good half of our time learning more and more complex snares. Bactria even showed us one that could capture a person. It was very complicated, but Bison and I memorized it. We were both smaller, weaker tributes; our only chance to win might be by hiding and ensnaring enemies.

After snares, Bison and I drifted apart. I spotted a girl at awls and I joined her. Camillie, 15, wasn't too young, but she seemed more like 13 in her size and looks. I soon learned that she acted 17 or 18, though. She was a tough big sister who was fighting to get back to her little sis, Wendie. We formed a strong bond as we learned to wield the little weapons called awls.

Soon lunch was announced, and Camillie and I walked together into the lunch room. Big, strong, and older tributes had gathered at one table. They would ally and rule the Games, providing most of the spectacle that Capitol loved; killing. They were the most likely to win, the ones us younger, smaller, and weaker tributes were going up against. And they worked in a pack, while the rest of us were solitary. They picked us off one by one until they were the only ones left, and then the toughest of the tough killed the others and was crowned Victor. That was at least how it usually worked.

Camillie and I sat at a nice, big round table. Bison strolled over and sat with us, a girl named Olivanna coming with him. Camillie spotted the District 3 twins, Catherine and Cameron, who didn't know where to sit. She waved them over and made them feel welcome.

After we had been eating and joking for a while, Camillie became serious.

"We all have to admit that we're younger and more inexperienced than those over there," she said, gesturing to the big, strong group nearby. "They almost always win. I think this is the year where we band together and show Panem that someone else can win. What do you say?"

All of us immediately agreed, and an alliance was formed. The Young and Free, Catherine coined it.

"This will increase our odds," I heard Olivanna mutter to herself, scribbling something down on a piece of paper with all of the tributes' names on it.

I basked in the good feeling rushing through me. I had friends and allies. I had a fighting chance.

 _..._

 _Andrea Matches, District 9_

The moment Rhesus told us to go to the stations, I ambled over to sickles. From working in the grain fields, I could wield one decently. The instructor, Kavrine, showed me the proper technique, and I became better at wielding the sickle.

"You're pretty good," someone said. I turned to see Bethany of District 7 watching me, her hands on her hips. She walked onto the platform, and Kavrine handed her a sickle. She told me to practice on my own for a bit while she worked with Bethany. I nodded, and walked over to a mannequin. I stabbed it once, twice, thrice, demolishing its head and then severing its neck. Bethany watched, impressed. After Kavrine had showed her the basics, we chatted as we disemboweled mannequins together.

"Would you be interested in working together?" she asked. "Chen and I already made an alliance last night, and you seem good. We could use you."

"I'd...I'd love to," I answered, smiling. I had thought I'd have to play these Games alone, without a friend. I would be the hiding-Victor type, who makes it by in the Games by outlasting the others.

"I think you're good with sickle practice today, Andrea. Chen's at edible insects; he wants to chat with you."

"Okay. Call me Andi."

"Will do, Andi."

I smiled at Bethany. The District 8 girl, Holly, took my place at sickles, and Bethany started talking to her as well.

I strode over to edible insects, where Chen was studying. He smiled, and we learned about edible insects together, also talking. I revealed that I was part of their alliance now.

At lunch, Chen and I sat together. Bethany strode over with Holly, saying she was our fourth and final member. Four was a good number, she said. We all agreed.

There, that very day, the Fabulous Four alliance was crafted.

 _..._

 _Emmer Schuliare, District 5_

Once Rhesus finished talking, I strode over to spears, where Serephina had already begun to train. I had my secret agenda; to sneak in with the strong tributes and last til the end with them. Serephina seemed surprised when I walked up next to her and asked to be trained. I then started conversation with her as the instructor, Circio, handed me a lightweight spear.

"So, you trained?" I asked as she expertly stabbed a mannequin in the chest with the spear.

"Yep," she said as I followed her example. My stab wasn't quite as clean but it worked. I had impaled a mannequin. Fun. Really, I have no idea why anyone would train to shove metal through people. It's no fun. Algebra is better than spear fighting. But eh, I'm a nerd. I get that.

"So, you're smart?" she asked after a bit.

"Yep," I answered, smiling devilishly. "When both of your parents are geeky teachers, the odds are astronomically high that you'll be a nerd, too."

Serephina laughed while she stabbed a mannequin in the jugular. I ignored that and kept on joking and chatting with her.

Eventually we moved on to nunchucks, and I fell in love. The instructor was kind, and the weapon was new to both Serephina and myself. I was better with them than her! Serephina seemed absolutely annoyed by that, but I made a few jokes and she laughed. I had showed I was capable with weaponry, and I would also be a goos strategist to have around.

Lunch came around, and Serephina and I walked together.

"Would...would you want to sit with us?" she asked, motioning to a table where Cephas and Dameon sat. I realized I was being invited into their alliance.

"Uh, damn yes!" I said, smiling, and Serephina smiled as we sat down at the table.

 _..._

 _Aenea Chariton, Head Gamemaker_

The tributes this year seemed promising. I watched that boy from 4; he had instigated a fight with his District partner. He was facing disqualification. I had become bored, so I pulled out my tablet and found a virtual map of the arena. I studied it, and then flipped to another program on my device. I had lovingly named it "Mutt Haven."

A half finished design for a new mutt was pulled out of the files, and I crafted it. Someone would die from a mutt like this this year. It had sleek, brown skin that looked wet, and it had the head of a sea lion. But it flippers and tail were replaced by two sets of reptilian legs, and it had a large, forked tongue and venomous fangs. A snake-seal.

I thought about who might fall victim to this new, cherished mutt I had designed. There were lots of capable tributes this year. There would only need to be a single mutt death. One tribute to die at the fangs of my beasts...

I decided there and then to not blow up Christopher. If he survived past the bloodbath, my mutts would attack him. If he managed to survive, lucky him. If not, he was dead. But, anyway, I had a feeling his sour District partner, Kiera, would gut him before the mutts could. She was twirling a trident around at the trident station, stabbing mannequins like they had Christopher's named plastered all over them. Their showdown would be entertaining, indeed.

I pulled up a virtual spreadsheet with all the tributes on them. I decided, after rolling a pair of virtual dice, the mutts would go after the tributes from District 12 (I rolled two sixes), if either survived the bloodbath, as well as Christopher. If neither from 12 survived, they would go after Kiera and Christopher and whoever was with them.

On my spreadsheet, I noted the groups I had seen together at lunch; possible alliances. The strongest, as always, had risen to the top, forming a vicious alliance that would do most of the killing and likely produce the Victor this year. Then there were two secondary alliances with 4 and 6 members, and then there was a pair of fiesty girls working together. Everyone else seemed to be on their own.

This Games would be interesting indeed.

...

A/N: Okay! Day 1 of 3 has been completed! I'm going to try and get every tribute a training chapter, which means 8 per day.

This is the new and revised alliance list (they can be renamed whatever you guys wish):

Strong and Mighty (Career-ish): Natalia, Cephas, Serephina, Dameon, Kiera, and Emmer

Fabulous 4: Bethany, Chen, Holly, and Andrea

Ferocity: Bianca and Caitlin

Young and Free: Camillie, Olivanna, Catherine, Cameron, Bison, and Hailea

Loners without alliances (not an alliance): Christopher, Steale, Burlap, Calix, Theodore, Walter

As always:

1\. Favorite POV

2\. Least Favorite POV

3\. Who you want to see next chapter (training day 2/3)

4\. Top 5, Least favorite 5 (I'm trying to figure out who to kill in the bloodbath and who should get what scores in training and I need some feedback on who is most liked and disliked)

Also, I PROMISE Dameon will be in the next chapter, he just traveled with Cephas this entire training day, so it would be boring to repeat everything that happened from his view point, so I didn't do it.

Until next time!

-Tracee


	13. Training Day 2

Hello! I am so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, but life's been, well, life lately, so I haven't been able to focus much on writing. Enjoy!

...

 _Calix Jackson, District 9_

Awoken by the faint sunlight streaming through the translucent curtains, I slipped out of bed. The Avox, whose name I never learned, had already laid out my loose black athletic pants and tight black t-shirt. After I pulled on the clothes, my fingers traced the large silver 9 printed on my chest as I walked out into the dining room.

These clothes, this place, it was all superficial. They pampered us, they "cared" for us, they worshiped us...just to send us out to kill each other. I wasn't naive. I knew I'd have a hard time winning the Games. Honestly, I knew deep down that I had almost zero chance. I scolded myself for thinking like that, but I knew it was true. Ignorance is bliss, truly, though, so I shoved the thoughts away.

"Coming to join us?" my escort, Kana, asked. She, Andrea, and the Mentor, Gregor, were all waiting around the table with our stylists and prep teams. It was only then that I realized I'd been standing on the threshold of my door for over five minutes, thinking, consumed in my thoughts.

"Ye-yeah," I choked out, staggering over to the table and sitting. Fluffy pancakes, rich syrup drizzled across them, were lined with slices of watermelon and honeydew. Bacon sizzled on warming platters and pitchers of milk and orange juice towered over the rest of the meal. My stomach growled, and I dug in hungrily. While I knew that food was food, and it didn't matter what it tasted like, I was hooked on the taste of watermelon. Already, superficial things were tainting me. If I ever got home, I'd never be able to eat the moldy loaves of bread I usually stole from the baker's dumpster.

Before I knew it, I'd cleaned my third plate, and my stomach was bulging underneath my tight black shirt. I felt nauseous, but the watermelon's lingering taste in my mouth helped ease the pain.

Soon, Gregor was leading us down to the training room. The elevator, as always, made my stomach lurch, and I almost barfed all over Andi. She just looked at me, and then she took a step away from me.

We walked down the rest of the way once we reached the ground floor. Everyone was gathering around Rhesus, and he stood by the infamous Gauntlet obstacle course. We were about 2 minutes early. Gregor shooed us over to him, and we jogged towards the Gauntlet and our Head Trainer. In a couple of minutes, everyone had arrived, and Rhesus began to speak.

"Now, it is time for the obligatory Gauntlet. All 24 of you must participate. Refusal of participation can and will result in disqualification."

Honestly, there were so many things you could do to get "disqualified" it was starting to sound lame. Who cares if you don't wave during the chariot rides? "Disqualification"! Who cares if I don't try to impress the crowd during interviews? "Disqualification"! Who cares if I don't try in training? "Disqualification"! It was a miracle that, usually, half of the tributes weren't blown sky high for stupid mistakes during the pre-Games mania, like training and interviews.

"We're going to go in a random order," Rhesus said. "This is how it works. You start the second the clock starts. You leap across the rising and falling platforms, duck around the swinging clubs and projectiles, climb the rope ladder, swing across the monkey bars, then run across another set of rising and falling platforms. To receive a 9 or higher in training, you must be able to complete the course. Inability to do so may result in a score of 8, even if your weaponry skills may be good."

This was new. I didn't know if it was a new rule, something that was never mentioned, or if it was something my stupid mind had just simply forgotten. But my stomach did a flip when I saw how fast the platforms were rising and falling.

Rhesus pulled up a virtual screen and hit a button. A wheel with all of our names on it popped up, and it landed on one person's name. Rhesus read it loudly, his voice booming.

" _Calix Jackson, District 9!"_

I cursed under my breath as I stepped up to the start line of the obstacle course. Looking at it, I knew why it was "lovingly" named the Gauntlet. I just tried to keep by breathing even and steady.

"Go!" Rhesus cried, and I ran forward onto the first platform.

 _..._

 _Dameon Xaine, District 2_

I stood with the others in my alliance, the Strong and Mighty; Cephas, Serephina, Natalia, Emmer, and Kiera. The boy from District 9 was up first. He seemed bloated, tired, and a little spacey. The second the clock started, he nimbly leaped forward...

And face planted. He tried to scramble to his feet, but he just tipped off of the platform, smacking his head on the ground. His nose began to bleed, and he puked all over the cement. I shuddered in disgust. A few around us seemed to be holding back laughter. Christopher snorted.

" _Serephina Manchas, District 2!"_ Rhesus yelled after the boy from District 9 had removed himself from the floor under the platforms and his puke had been mopped up. Serephina happily stepped up to the starting line, smiling. My District partner.

The second the clock started, Serephina was off like a shot, maneuvering across the quickly rising and falling platforms with ease. The padded clubs and curving projectiles didn't even slow her down, and she crawled up the rope ladder and across the monkey bars before hopping down and leaping across the last of the moving platforms. She clocked in at 1:21. There was thunderous applause from the Gamemakers, and our Mentor, Rhodesia, gave Serephina a joyful thumbs up. Rhesus spun his virtual wheel again.

" _Dameon Xaine, District 2!"_ Rhesus cried out. I felt my legs move, and then I was at the starting line. There was a loud click, and the clock began, and my legs pushed off.

I scrambled onto the first platform. I had not known about this stupid agility course. I would probably manage to make it across, but it would be slow going. I tried to keep my legs from shaking as I jumped from platform to platform. I was nervous, scared. An 8 was not a good enough score. A 9 was, but not an 8. Any tribute, if they tried hard enough and got a little help from trainers, could get an 8. Only the elite tributes, those who prepared like me, could earn a 9 or higher.

I made it across the platforms, and then I was almost bludgeoned to the ground by a swinging club. I barely ducked, and I almost toppled from the platform. I managed to get out of the way of the other clubs and the numerous projectiles, like plastic arrows or dodge-balls.

I hauled myself up the ladder, grunting from the exertion. The monkey bars were nearly the death of me. It took me 30+ seconds to make it across. The platforms at the end were a piece of cake, and then I was done.

"2:07," a woman at the end said. "Good job!"

I just growled under my breath. Serephina had outdone me, and others would, too. My parents would not be satisfied with a 2:07.

Dy'lan's words came to me. He had said that I should stay home in District 2, like him. That volunteering was a mistake.

I was realizing that now.

 _..._

 _Catherine Spark, District 3_

My mind was elsewhere as the Gauntlet runnings began, but I kept track of the tributes who went. The boy from 9 didn't finish. Then both from 2, who did. The boy from 4 made it to the clubs then was knocked off brutally. I could see his District partner snickering. So there was some tension there.

I paid attention to everything, seeing the best paths across and which strategies would work and which would fail. The girl from 5 managed to get across. Bison fell at the first platforms. So did Hailea. I bit my lip when I saw that.

" _Cameron Spark, District 3!"_ Rhesus boomed. My twin stepped up, and then he burst forward.

I had always been the one to pay attention to detail. He made it past the platforms, but, while he managed around the clubs, he had forgotten about the projectiles. One smacked him on the head, and his run was declared void.

He walked over and I squeezed his hand. We watched as the boy from 12 went, barely making it to the rope ladder before falling. Then another name was called.

" _Catherine Spark, District 3!"_ Rhesus screeched. I shakily walked up.

 _Take this slow, Catherine_ I thought to myself, taking deep breaths. The clock began, and I leaped forward.

It took me five seconds to leap from platform to platform, but I kept my balance well. I sped up at the clubs and projectiles, using my small size and moderate speed to my advantage. The rope ladder was easy, but the monkey bars were very hard. My short arms could barely reach from bar to bar. It took me well over a minute to get across those, but I kept it up. Slow and steady wins the race, as the old proverb says.

Finally, the platforms. These ones were harder than the first ones, but easy compared to the monkey bars. I realized, as I crossed the finish, that I was the first so far to qualify from my alliance. Cameron, Bison, and Hailea, who I considered stronger than I, had failed. I had succeeded.

"Your time was a 4:27," the woman at the end said, smiling pitifully.

At least I finished.

 _..._

 _Bethany Taylor, District 7_

People flew by, some completing the course, most not. I mostly just focused on my alliance members. Chen made it across in 3:29. Andi and Holly both made it to the monkey bars before falling.

One by one, everyone finished and stood off to the side. The girl from 6 went, and she made it across in 4:01. Then I was the last one, and I stepped up to the line.

The clock started, and I ran forward. Land, push off, land, wait for the next platform to rise, push off, land, wait for the next platform to fall. A neat rhythm.

The clubs almost got me, and a projectile almost grazed my arm, but I made it across. Ladder and monkey bars were a piece of cake. I'd climbed trees all my life, and that was nothing different. The last platforms were rough. I almost fell twice. They were jerky and not smooth, unlike the platforms at the beginning. I was thankful when I made it across the finish line.

"2:06," the woman said, smiling. I was surprised. I was that fast?! I had done better than Dameon, who had obviously trained. I took a deep breath and let it out.

The qualifiers and the non qualifiers were plastered across the room in holographic form. I read the nearest one.

 ** _QUALIFIERS_**

 _CEPHAS GOLD, DISTRICT 1 MALE: 2:03_

 _SEREPHINA MANCHAS, DISTRICT 2 FEMALE: 1:21_

 _DAMEON XAINE, DISTRICT 2 MALE: 2:07_

 _CATHERINE SPARK, DISTRICT 3 FEMALE: 4:27_

 _KIERA WATERS, DISTRICT 4 FEMALE: 2:00_

 _CAITLIN THEARDIE, DISTRICT 5 FEMALE: 2:46_

 _EMMER SCHULIARE, DISTRICT 5 MALE: 4:59_

 _OLIVANNA SANATORIUM, DISTRICT 6 FEMALE: 4:01_

 _BETHANY TAYLOR, DISTRICT 7 FEMALE: 2:06_

 _CHEN EVONCURST, DISTRICT 7 MALE: 3:29_

 _BIANCA CATALANO, DISTRICT 10 FEMALE: 2:51_

 _CAMILLIE MONTEGRO, DISTRICT 12 FEMALE: 3:21_

 ** _NON-QUALIFIERS_**

 _NATALIA GENERAL, DISTRICT 1 FEMALE (OUT AT MONKEY BARS)  
_

 _CAMERON SPARK, DISTRICT 3 MALE (OUT AT CLUBS AND PROJECTILES)_

 _CHRISTOPHER TIDESWORTH, DISTRICT 4 MALE (OUT AT CLUBS AND PROJECTILES)_

 _STEALE BOEING, DISTRICT 6 MALE (OUT AT ROPE LADDER)  
_

 _HOLLY BURNETT, DISTRICT 8 FEMALE (OUT AT MONKEY BARS)_

 _BURLAP THOMASSON, DISTRICT 8 MALE (OUT AT SECOND PLATFORMS)_

 _ANDREA MATCHES, DISTRICT 9 FEMALE (OUT AT MONKEY BARS)_

 _CALIX JACKSON, DISTRICT 9 MALE (OUT AT FIRST PLATFORMS)_

 _BISON SEVILLE, DISTRICT 10 MALE (OUT AT FIRST PLATFORMS)_

 _HAILEA HIMALAYAN, DISTRICT 11 FEMALE (OUT AT FIRST PLATFORMS)  
_

 _THEODORE ANDERSON, DISTRICT 11 MALE (OUT AT ROPE LADDER)_

 _WALTER INLAEN, DISTRICT 12 MALE (OUT AT ROPE LADDER)_

I smiled. I was in the Top 50% by making it through the course. And, based on my time, I was in the Top 4.

I used my new found confidence to go over to axes and tear apart some poor, innocent mannequins. Wow, could I work an axe or not?

 _..._

 _Kiera Waters, District 4_

The second best time, all mine, at 2:00. The only one in the alliance who didn't make it was Natalia. Of course, it took Emmer almost 5 minutes, but still. He completed it. Natalia did not. The stupid brat. I didn't understand why she was in our alliance. Probably because of Cephas, honestly. He didn't seem to care much for her either, but the Capitol makes a big deal about District partners and what not. They'll freak when I gut Christopher at the bloodbath. They'll replay that reel while our alliance hunts down the rest, and they'll play every agonizing second of it slowly when I am the Victor.

I felt colder, on the inside, than I was before. Maybe it was because naivety had left and reality had arrived. Maybe it was because others around me acted like that. And maybe it had been there all along, and I'd just ignored it. But I knew that you must have a strong blade, a cold heart, and a witty mind to win. I had a strong blade and a witty mind. All I needed was the icy heart, and I thought I may have had it by then.

I spent some more time at tridents. The instructor had given up all hope of making any constructive comments, because I knew this weapon better than him. Much better than him. Spin, stab, push up and in, pull out. A dozen wasted mannequins laid around me soon, their plastic and styrofoam guts spilling across the trident platform. A pair of Avoxes cleaned up my mess as I marched over to where Natalia was practicing with knives.

"Hey," Natalia said, surprised at my arrival. So, I must have made it pretty clear I didn't like her.

"Hello," I said, picking up a throwing knife and squaring up at the unused target. Natalia's knives hit the target every time. Of the five I threw, only three hit.

I bit my lip to keep from complaining. Like it or not, this girl was my ally. Either I had her plus Serephina, Cephas, Dameon, and Emmer, or I had myself. And if I just had myself, I would die pretty early on.

We practiced together until lunch was announced. Then the two of us headed over there and sat at the biggest table. Serephina and Emmer were already there. They had spent the day at maces, where Emmer had done well. Maybe he wouldn't be as big of a handicap to the group as I'd expected him to be.

Dameon and Cephas soon arrived, and we all dug into or lunch, laughing and smiling while plotting how to kill each other.

 _..._

 _Holly Burnett, District 8_

I didn't make it. Chen and Bethany did, but I didn't. Andi didn't make it either, but I didn't really care. That was expected. A District 9 girl rarely did well. District 8 was a different matter. We were the most boisterous, rebellious, and sassy District. We had many great tributes. I wanted to be one of those great tributes that won and got to go home.

I tried to clear my mind. Anger wasn't me. I was usually calm, complacent, shy. I let the anger boil down, diminish until it was gone.

By the time my anger was gone, I realized that I'd gone back to sickles and had slaughtered a mannequin before I calmed myself down. I helped remove the destroyed mannequin, and then I walked over to fire making, where Andi was attempting to put together a fire. She did it rather quickly. The instructor was busy helping the girl from 11, so Andi helped me learn how to make a good fire. She let me take her spot, and in two minutes I had a nice little fire roaring.

Soon enough, lunch arrived. Andi and I walked over to the axe station, where Bethany and Chen were cleaning up the mess they'd made of about ten mannequins. They'd also tried throwing axes, and several smaller axes were buried in or around targets mounted to the wall. These two were strong and powerful. Andi and I paled in comparison to them.

We all sat down for lunch, smiling and chatting. We talked about our home lives. Bethany lived with her two younger sisters and her parents. Chen lived with his dad. Andi lived with her sister, father, and a step mother of sorts, who sounded terrible. Andi assured me Greta, the "step-mother", really was a monstrosity.

I filled them in about my mom and my sisters, about my life. All I left out was being young, in the alley, during the rebellion.

I pushed away that bloody moment before the sirens could fill my ears.

 _..._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium, District 6_

I made it across the obstacle course. How?! I just kept smiling to myself. Odds increased. Top 50%. That translated to the top 12 in the Games. Top 12 was a momentous occasion, almost as momentous as Top 8. Then of course there was the Final Four, the Tired Two, and then the Vivacious Victor. Most of those terms were coined by me, by the way.

Throwing knives were taken, but regular knives had an open slot. There was a variety of knives and daggers, from a slim 1-and-1/2-inch leaf blade to the 11 inch long, serrated blade. I liked the longer knives. I picked up on that was approximately 9 inches long, with a slight serration. I stabbed at a mannequin, and the instructor applauded.

"Good technique! Let's work on it, though."

The instructor had me use a 7 inch blade, which she said was the perfect length and size for my body height and wingspan. I spent the entire rest of training working on knife skills, and the instructor suggested that I come back tomorrow to perfect my abilities. I nodded, agreeing.

I found Catherine and Cameron sitting at our table already. Camillie, Catherine, and myself had made it through the course, while Hailea, Cameron, and Bison had not. I wasn't surprised by Camillie; she was the strongest one here, and the oldest. But Catherine was a sincere surprise. Good for her, though. It's nice to have surprises in the Hunger Games, especially when one of the surprises is your ally.

We all ate our lunch, talking like best friends even though we'd only met yesterday. I guess, when you only have 3 days to assemble a team of people to trust your life with, you have to speed up the friend making process.

I smiled at all 5 others. We were strong. We were going to win.

I brought my sheet out of my pocket, and I wrote big 1's next to all 6 members of our alliance, the Young and Free.

 _..._

 _Bianca Catalano, District 10_

I had made it across, and in a decent-ish time. I smiled to myself. I spotted Caitlin, again at archery. I walked up to my new friend, and picked up a bow. She gave me a silent glance of welcome before firing yet another arrow. She hit in the red, but it wasn't a straight on bulls-eye.

After a few missed arrows, I was warmed up, and my next four arrows hit the target in the white and blue. The next one missed, but I was still doing decent.

"Do you think we could try moving objects?" Caitlin asked the instructor.

The instructor nodded, and Avoxes dragged away the targets. Then two mechanical mannequins, programmed to be controlled from a controller held by the trainer, leaped to life. Caitlin fired two arrows quickly, and one grazed the first mannequin. The mannequin jumped away from that arrow, like a real human, and into her second arrow. It sliced into the mannequin's chest, and it fell, dead. The trainer applauded.

The tried to fire at the other one, but all of my arrows missed. One finally hit its foot. The instructor applauded my efforts as well, saying it was hard to hit a moving target anywhere.

I started to walk over to knives, my strong suit, but then lunch was called.

Caitlin and I sat down together, and our lunches were laid out. We dug in, and then I mentioned the question we'd both surely been thinking about for most of the day.

"Are you interested in an alliance with me?" I asked quickly between mouthfuls of steamed peas.

"Yes," Caitlin said quietly. "But let's keep it a secret. People target alliances."

I nodded, agreeing. Alliances were dangerous. To stronger tributes, alliances were tantalizing meals to break apart and devour compared to lone tributes, who were just boring, lone pieces of food. Alliances were also helpful, but the two big obvious alliances beside's Serephina's would be prime targets at the bloodbath, and Caitlin and I both knew it.

"What should we call it?" I asked.

"Ferocity. Because we'll take them all down," Caitlin said, smiling slyly, and I laughed. How true.

 _..._

 _Rhesus Athenodotes, Head Trainer_

Interesting results at the Gauntlet. Some were expected, but there were several surprise qualifications. I counted them off in my head.

1\. Catherine Spark, District 3 Female

2\. Emmer Schuliare, District 5 Male

3\. Olivanna Sanatorium, District 6 Female

4\. Camillie Montegro, District 12 Female

These 4 were dangerous surprises. Surprises were great, great things. No one wanted a Games where a strong tribute killed off everyone who didn't die of starvation or dehydration. They wanted a Games where tributes put up a fight, where there was an underdog who succeeded, where there were many, many surprises. I had gotten all of that from being a Gamemaker for the 4th-9th Hunger Games.

This year, I would be rooting for those four, and the others. As a Gamemaker, letting someone rebellious win is a sin, an execution sentence. But I was just a Head Trainer now. I could do whatever I wanted.

I wished I was allowed to bet. I would have bet on every single one of them.

...

A/N: I'm back! I was very busy for a bit, but now I have today and tomorrow free, and I'll try to get up the last day of training by tomorrow, too.

As always:

1\. Favorite POV

2\. Least favorite POV

3\. And a new, random one: Please rank these, 1 being the best, 6 being your least favorite: Serephina, Emmer, Camillie, Bianca, Olivanna, and Caitlin. Please send these by PM.

4\. Another ranking, also for PM: Serephina, Dameon, Cephas, Natalia, Emmer, and Kiera

5\. Yet another ranking (Just trying to figure some things out, I'm sorry): 1 is best, 6 is least favorite: Catherine, Cameron, Olivanna, Camillie, Hailea, and Bison

I think I'm figuring out who I'm going to kill in the bloodbath, so I don't need anymore help with that. I'm just trying to figure out who's popular so I don't make the mistake of killing of a reader favorite in the bloodbath! I think we're pretty much set. We just have the rest of training, interviews, and then bam! The Games begin! We're getting close!

Also, one more thing. I may not be using the weapons you suggested for your tribute, and the scores may be a little off from what you wanted. If you really, really want them to use a different weapon or something, PM me about it, but some tributes might not be using their preferred weapon, and not everyone can get a 10.

Until next time!

-Tracee


	14. Training Day 3

Here is the last day of training, with the 8 tributes who haven't gotten training POVs yet. Also, this update took a while because I was a little out of ideas for some characters, and I had to rewrite some portions. Enjoy!

 _..._

 _Theodore Anderson, District 11_

Wake up, get dressed, I told myself. Fall into the rhythm, the monotonous rhythm, of this terribly excessive life. Pull on the baggy black pants over your long, slim legs. Pull on the tight black shirt, with the silver number 11's everywhere. Lace up the black tennis shoes that you've slept in for some reason. They were much fancier than my ratty brown boots from back home. Brush your teeth and hair, wash your face, and put a new bandage on the cut you got from knives during training. An Avox would do half of these tasks for me if I wanted her to, but I didn't. I wanted to retain some form of my independent self. I needed to.

When I was fully prepared, I walked out of my room, taking deep breaths. Our escort, Mina, was awake, glaring at our Mentor, Discus. They apparently had some rough history, but I didn't want to know about it. Asking would probably ignite a verbal brawl akin to the one that happened on the train ride to the Capitol.

Hailea entered soon after I sat down, next to Discus. Our stylists and prep teams sat, too, and then we dug into our meals.

As I ate strips of crispy bacon, I thought of my little brother, Brett, who I'd volunteered for. Brett loved his bacon crispy. The thought made tears pool in my eyes, and I almost choked on my food.

After consuming only the amount of food I needed (Mina didn't want either of us to repeat a Calix retch scene today), Hailea and I were escorted down to training by a ticked off Discus. Mina had been berating him the entire meal, and it had been quite annoying.

We arrived to the sight of several other tributes gathered around Rhesus, who stood tall in the middle of the room, dressed in a stretchy silver outfit that flashed underneath the florescent lights of the training room. Hailea and I trotted over to him. Over the next 5 minutes, the other tributes arrived, and then Rhesus began to speak.

"Training will be cut in half, and lunch will come early today. For the latter half of the day, we will be having the private sessions with the Gamemakers where you will show of your skills to earn a score from 1 to 12, as we talked about on the first day. Now, go, before you run out of time on your last day to train before the Games begin. Today will go by exceptionally quick."

We all raced forward. I went to tridents. They were similar to pitchforks, which I had to use back home. They were heavier, though, and this one had a strangely curved shaft with barbed prongs. The instructor showed me how to properly hold and stab with the trident. While I practiced, something happened at spears, but I ignored it. Before I knew it, Rhesus was calling lunch. He had been right; today would go by fast. I walked into the lunch room, where I spotted someone I'd been sitting with at lunch; Christopher.

I sat down besides him. He was anxious, and he looked at me worriedly.

"There's such big alliances this year, Theo," he said. "Do you think we could..." he trailed off.

"Pair up?" I said.

"Yeah," he replied, biting his lip. "Yeah."

I nodded slowly. I had a new ally, I guess.

At least I wouldn't be alone.

 _..._

 _Camillie Montegro, District 12_

I've been all over the map with my stations. Survival? I'd done four of the most important: Hunting, shelter making, fire making, and snares. Weapons? Sickles, throwing knives, axes, and awls had all occupied my time. Other? I qualified on the Gauntlet, and, damn, I even wrestled some big, muscly Capitol guy at wrestling.

I took a deep breath. Edible plants called my name, but everyone else in my alliance had spent time there, so I decided to focus on weaponry. I'd done the best at throwing knives, but it was fully occupied, so I trotted over to sickles.

Catherine was there, working hard with the weapon. I was impressed. At the beginning, she seemed to lack the drive to win, like pretty much all of my allies. But now, something had awakened within her, and she was trying her hardest to prepare for the private sessions. I could tell that she wanted a higher score than what the Capitol had already pinned on her in the magazines; a 4 or 5. She smiled at me, wiping her perspiring brow.

The instructor gave me some more pointers on how to fight with a sickle. Stabbing hard, I also punched the mannequin in the face. There was a crack; I'd broken its false nose. My knuckles stung, but I quickly sliced my sickle across the mannequin's throat, "killing" it with a single swipe.

The instructor applauded, and Catherine gave me a thumbs up before similarly disemboweling a mannequin.

Serephina did something characteristically awesome and goddess-like, but I didn't pay attention to it, though I was silent as people stared.

Rhesus was calling us all over for lunch soon enough. Catherine and I returned our sickles, and we smiled at each other, mutual sickle wielders. Catherine, though she was years older and didn't look like her at all, reminded me of Wendie. She seemed like a piece of home, even though our Districts were so far apart. She was like Wendie, and she could defend herself.

I knew who I'd be siding with if our alliance ever split.

 _..._

 _Serephina Manchas, District 2_

I strode across the hard cement floor of the training room, my sleek black tennis shoes squeaking loudly as I pranced forward. Emmer and Natalia flanked me like an entourage. I sadly knew that they'd be the first to go in our alliance.

I walked over to spears. Spears were my favored weapon, favored above even the bow and arrows I showed off often during training. I had been keeping the talent hidden, but I needed to practice. More than 3 days out of practice with a weapon meant that your skills would fade and atrophy, at least according to a physical training manual Garry used to read. And, anyway, I needed to get warmed up for the private sessions.

Natalia left to go to a survival station, but Emmer stayed by my side, loyal, like a lapdog. I wasn't naive. He was only sticking with me because strong allies meant survival. He was also smart. I knew he'd try to back stab me, probably literally, sometime down the road of the Games, probably towards the end. He thought I was naive, over confident. I was confident, but I knew I had my flaws, my limitations. I pushed my thoughts away as I focused on the station and the task at hand.

I picked up a sleek, thin, and light spear with a menacingly barbed tip. I licked my lips and got into perfect position. The trainer was startled, but he put out a target. I smiled, growling loudly from the extertion as I chucked the spear with all of my might. It soared in a tight arc through the air, smacking home into the dummy's plastic chest.

The training center fell half-quiet as the trainer slowly righted the speared mannequin. The spear had cut all the way through the mannequin and was laying, discarded, on the floor, its tip bent. A giant, gaping hole, big as a human heart, was left behind in the dummy's torn, disfigured chest.

Emmer threw his. It didn't even reach his mannequin. The second his spear clattered to the floor, the room burst back into life, turning away from the destroyed mannequin and the one who had brutalized it; me.

I felt that feeling rushing through me, the one I'd felt when standing in the chariots with Dameon. The feeling of adoration, of pride, of...respect. I wanted to be respected. I didn't want to be another Garry, a strong, strong tribute who deserved to win, only to be killed off by a piece of scum. The anger welled up within me, and I threw another spear, watching as it struck right into the mannequin's forehead. I imagined Miss _Victor_ Calla Espenson's face glued to it.

A few more throws, and my anger faded. I finally knew what I wanted, then and there. I didn't want respect, truly. Respect could be earned in a variety of ways that didn't require what I was doing now. I knew exactly what I wanted.

I wanted to be remembered.

 _..._

 _Chen Evoncurst, District 7_

As soon as Rhesus released us, I rushed over to snares. I needed to get a survival skill down before we entered the Games.

The instructor, a kind looking woman named Bactria, smiled up at me. This station had been abandoned for most of yesterday, and I'd seen this kind lady twiddling her thumbs awkwardly, waiting for some to instructor, to teach.

I sat down on the faux forest floor and watched as she constructed a twitch up snare. It took me about twenty minutes to set my first one, and it fell apart after I'd finished. Bactria smiled, and helped me work through the steps again. I made a second one, and then a third, and then a fourth. After I'd perfected the snare, I quickly dashed over to axes. Bactria was nice, and snares were interesting, but I needed to get more axe practice down.

"At axes again, huh?" Bethany said as I jogged up. She was trying something new; throwing axes. She was pretty decent, and every throw dug deep into the three inch thick wood targets, bolted to the wall behind the axe station.

I stuck to normal axes, and chopped apart three mannequins at my own leisure until lunch was announced. I just pretended the mannequins were trees, saplings, really, that needed to be cleared. I set down my axe, gathering the scraps of the mannequins together in one pile so the Avoxes would have an easier time cleaning up the station.

I was the last to arrive at lunch. Bethany, Holly, and Andi greeted me, and we chatted about the private sessions as our lunches were served and we ate.

I was happy to have people I could rely on.

 _..._

 _Walter Inlaen, District 12_

I had no idea why I was doing it, but I walked over to the spear station. Zachary, my brother who'd died in the 4th Hunger Games, had gutted a small girl from 9 with a spear in the bloodbath. He had gotten a decent score, a 7. The only thing; after he killed the girl from 9, her hulking District partner smashed Zachary's head in with a nail studded mace.

Still, I walked over to spears, picking one up and lobbing it at a target. It clipped the target's shoulder, and the instructor smiled and corrected my throwing form before handing me a different spear, saying it would be better suited to my physical strength. After a few throws, I was hitting the target every time straight on. This gave me a small sliver of hope deep down. Maybe I wouldn't be one of the first slaughtered like Zachary. And even if I was a bloodbath kill, at least I'd be able to put up a fight.

After I'd practiced for a bit, Serephina and Emmer walked up, and I departed, letting them take the station. Serephina was a goddess with spears; I was thoroughly impressed by her skill and precision.

I trotted over to edible insects for the rest of the day. It was sort of disgusting, eating bugs and all, but there'd been a Games, the 2nd or 3rd, where the Victor outlasted the others in an arena without food by eating purely insects. Disgusting, but helpful.

Soon lunch was called, and I walked over there. I sat with no one. Alliances seemed weird to me. Why make friends with people you'd have to kill? And, when your allies died, you would feel more pain and loss than necessary. They seemed stupid to me.

I ate and consumed myself in my thoughts, counting down the minutes until the private sessions would begin.

 _..._

 _Burlap Thomasson, District 8_

Rhesus released us to do whatever we wanted for the last hours of training. I rushed around quickly, trying to find a good station. I'd focused on survival, and I knew how to set a fire, find water, detect edible plants and insects, and set snares. I'd only practiced with daggers for half an hour, and it had been a nightmare. I'd been practicing with Theodore from 11, and the boy cut himself because he was too clumsy to handle the sharp blades well, too.

I strode quickly over to maces. A boy, Bison from District 10, was trying to lift a mace and was failing. The instructor handed him a smaller weapon, a hammer-like weapon about a foot and a half long, with a large, rounded end with spikes protruding. Bison attacked a mannequin with the strange baton as I heaved a mace into my hands. It was heavy, but not terribly so. I lifted and swung it like a baseball bat, obliterating the head of the nearest mannequin.

I found solace from my worries and fears about the Games by smashing apart the mannequins with the mace. I was decent, not good. The only reason I did damage, the instructor said, was because of the brute force I put behind my weapon. My hands were chaffed and my long, muscled arms were sore by the time lunch was called by Rhesus.

I shuffled into the lunch room and sat down alone. I glanced at the other loners; Steale from 6, Calix from 9, and Walter from 12. Christopher and Theodore had teamed up today, the last day. I thought about doing the same thing, but before I could make a decision of what boy to sit with, lunch was declared over. I gulped as we were brought to another room to wait for the private sessions to begin. What was a I going to do?! My mind started to freak out. What was I going to show? Maces? Edible insects? Swords? Shelters? Fire making? Tears rolling down my confused face? I took in a shaky breath as Cephas from 1 was called into the room.

All I knew was that I just had to try to be me.

 _..._

 _Cameron Spark, District 3_

As soon as Rhesus told us to go train, I watched Catherine march over to sickles with Camillie by her side. They tore apart the mannequins. They were able, fit, possible Victors, even. I was not.

Catherine had drifted away from me ever since the Young and Free alliance had been formed. The rift, invisible to her, had widened exponentially when she made it across the agility course and I did not. I was always the stronger sibling, the more physical half, the more outgoing half, the more extroverted half. I was the _better_ half. That was not so anymore. All I wanted was to keep my sister safe. Now she would be the one keeping me safe.

I ambled over to edible plants, where Hailea was studying a bit more. We'd both spent a long time at these stations in previous days of training, and Hailea was reviewing before she showed off her skills for the Gamemakers at the Private Sessions. I followed suit, and turned on the interactive game. You had to match plants that looked the same. If you got a match that was an edible plant, it would light up green and take up the entire screen and state its uses. If you got a match that was a non edible plant, it would light up red and take up the entire screen and state why it was harmful. If you didn't get a match, the screen would light up yellow.

My fingers flew across the control pad, matching plants and memorizing facts. If there was one thing I was good at in this entire training room, it was this. Learning pure, cold hard fact, not ways to disembowel another person or light a fire or trap an innocent animal. This was my forte. Yellow, red, and green flashed across the screen, and I became immersed in the activity.

"Cameron!" I heard someone calling far behind me. I ignored the voice, watching as a matched a large, white bulb with a small green tuft of leaves on top. The screen lit up green, and I read its name and uses.

 _Fennel. Usually found near oceans. Edible. Part of the carrot family._

The fennel faded from the screen, and my fingers were about to clack down to match a pair of chestnut like things when someone pulled me away. It was Hailea.

"Cameron!" she bellowed. "It's lunch! They called it ten minutes ago! The trainers are freaking out. They were going to call the Peacekeepers, Cam!"

I shook my head, blinking slowly. Peacekeepers? For me? I started suddenly and jogged over to lunch, Hailea on my heels.

"Cam, are you okay?" Hailea asked, folding her arms across her chest. She was worried.

"Sure," I murmured as we arrived at our lunch table. Olivanna and Camillie were fine, but Catherine seemed genuinely distressed. I guess I still did have my sister. I hadn't lost her yet.

 _..._

 _Natalia General, District 1_

I realized, after Rhesus told us to go start training again, that I hadn't spent a moment of training at a survival station. The past two days I'd been at throwing knives, where I excelled, and following Serephina and Emmer around to a few other weapons stations. They were heading over to spears, in fact, and I was walking right behind them. I shook my head, clearing it. Why was I following them around blindly? Why wasn't I thinking for myself?

"I...I'm gonna head over to shelter making," I told Serephina and Emmer. They barely acknowledged my words, just quickly nodding before marching the rest of the way over to spears. Serephina picked one up, smiled, and threw it. The entire training room froze, watching as the spear sliced perfectly through the mannequin, leaving a giant, lopsided tear in its chest. I shuddered. Everyone's attention to their stations resumed after Emmer attempted to throw a spear and it didn't even reach the target.

I turned away and slowly walked over to shelter making. No one was there besides the trainer, a preppy looking woman with butter yellow hair and at least three dozen visible piercings. I knelt down beside her, and she smiled at me, gathering supplies so we could begin learning.

"My name is Randasha," she said, and we shook hands loosely before she began her lesson.

"Today we are going to be building a simple tent from tree branches, leaves, and twine," she told me. "It will protect against mild weather, though severe weather will probably tear it apart. This type of tent is about the best you can do with all natural materials and no supplies from the Cornucopia. Of course, there are tent kits and the like at the Cornucopia, but this station is about how to build shelters from scratch."

I nodded, urging her on, and then she assembled a tent, just big enough for one person the worm their way into. I tried to copy it and failed miserably. A few more tries, and it was obvious I was more adept with knives than tents.

"Just keep trying!" Randasha urged, her butter yellow hair shimmering in the florescent lights.

"I...I think I'm going to go over to throwing knives," I muttered. Randasha seemed disappointed, but I walked away, rolling my eyes. Why should she be worried or feel shame? Why should she feel anything negative? She was a Capitol. She was free of the Games. They were a reality show, something enjoyed, to her. She was not a tribute, days away from entering the Games with nothing but their bare skills and knowledge and a couple of allies. She was not facing death in the perceivable future. She was free. I was not.

I arrived at throwing knives. By now, me and the trainer, Simmond, we good friends. He smiled as I arrived, but I was not in a joking mood. I swept a couple of small, serrated blades into my hand. One, two, three, they all sunk deep into the target. Simmond clapped, but that just made me even more frustrated. They should not be clapping. They should be pitying us, not urging us to become killers. I gritted my teeth and threw another, and another. I almost threw one at Simmond, just so he could feel the pain on the inside. I felt like I was bled out, yet somehow still alive. I felt utterly empty.

Rhesus called out that lunch was ready. At least two dozen knives peppered the wooden target in front of me. Simmond, who had seemed jovial before, seemed frightened. I looked down to see my hands bleeding from the blades.

I shakily walked to lunch and grabbed some napkins to press against my bloody hands. An Avox delivered some bandages, which I wrapped around my hands. Serephina and Emmer were the next to arrive. Kiera came separately from the boys, who were some of the last in. We began to eat.

"So, we should talk strategy," Kiera finally said.

"Rush to the Cornucopia, get weapons, kill as many others outside of the alliance as possible. Simple," Cephas said. We all agreed.

Ten minutes in, a shaken Cameron and a frantic Hailea entered. I wondered what that was all about.

Then, lunch was over, and it was time for the daunting private sessions.

 _..._

 _Cevir Nadeem, Capitol Trainer (Scythes Station), Age 38_

As soon as Cameron and Hailea were escorted out of the room, all of the trainers leaped into a frenzy. Those two tributes had been holding back on us re-arranging the training room for the sessions. Bactria, the snares trainer, and I helped pull away all of the mats along with several others. One of each weapon was arranged on a large silver rack, and miniature versions of the survival stations were set up on the outskirts of the room. The gauntlet and the ropes course remained in their spots, and a single mat for wrestling was dragged into one corner.

"District 1's coming in in 5!" Rhesus boomed over his microphone. "Hurry up with the finishing touches!"

The Gamemakers strode into the Loft, the large room that overlooked the training room. They readied their evaluation sheets as the room was finished being assembled. We all scurried into the corners and into smaller viewing rooms as the first tribute strode into the training room.

"Cephas Gold, District 1 Male!" Rhesus cried, and then the private sessions had begun.

 _..._

A/N: Private sessions up next! YAY! After those, the interviews, and then the BLOODBATH! Sorry, I'm getting excited for the Games to start.

As always:

1\. Favorite POV

2\. Least favorite POV

3\. Who do you think will get the highest training score?

4\. Who do you think will get the lowest training score?

Alliances Reminder:

Strong and Mighty (Career-ish): Natalia, Cephas, Serephina, Dameon, Kiera, and Emmer

The Fabulous 4: Bethany, Chen, Holly, and Andrea

Ferocity: Caitlin and Bianca

Young and Free: Catherine, Cameron, Olivanna, Bison, Hailea, and Camillie

And the new one!

Water and Apples (new!): Christopher and Theodore

Also this is how the private sessions will work. There will be a POV for each tribute. The males for the odd Districts and the females for the even Districts' POVs will be at the Private sessions. The females for the odd Districts and the males for the even Districts' POVs will be watching as the score airs. At the end, I'll post a comprehensive list of all the scores. That chapter should be out quickly (I hope). Soon, I'll have a lot more free time, so chapters will gradually come out quicker.

One more thing: I've been thinking about adding quotes for each tribute during the Games. The quotes will be something they said Pre-Games. Example:

 ** _Serephina Manchas, District 2_**

 _"I wanted to be remembered."_

or

 _ **Steale Boeing, District 6**_

 _"Boys who tie knots do not win the Hunger Games."_

or

 _ **Cameron Spark, District 3**_

 _"All I wanted was to keep my sister safe."_

Just some ideas. If you guys don't want me to do quotes, that's fine, just say so.

Until next time!

-Tracee


	15. Private Sessions and Scores Revealed

A/N: Here it is, 6,000+ words! Enjoy, and I hope you are happy with your tribute(s) score(s) and POV(s)!

...

 _ **Private Sessions**_

 _..._

 _Cephas Gold, District 1_

"Cephas Gold, District 1!" Rhesus boomed. I strode out of the dank waiting room proudly, strutting forward, into the cement training room. It had been cleared, and a rack of shiny, silvery weapons, light and durable, waited on one side of the room. On the other side sat various survival stations, and the Gauntlet waited, imposing in the center of the room, next to a wrestling mat.

I strutted over to the weapons rack, quickly flipping a short sword around from hand to hand. At least three dozens Gamemakers sat, watching, and the Head Gamemaker, Aenea Chariton, sat on a golden, throne-like padded chair. She was their leader, their queen, their empress, and she was ruthless.

I lunged at the nearest mannequin, beheading it in one easy sweep of my blade. Three dozen pencils scratched notes on clipboards, evaluating my skills. I walked up to another mannequin, circling it. Two quick slashes of my blade, and it was cut into three pieces.

"Have him attack some moving ones," Head Gamemaker Aenea Chariton called from the Loft. A trainer scurried out from the shadows, smiling at me while activating two moving mannequins. They held dull metal batons and moved like humans.

I lunged at the first one, slicing off the hand holding the baton. It stood there, startled, as the other one tried to rap me on the shoulder with its baton. I spun out of reach before slicing the neck of the attacking mannequin swiftly. It fell, and then the hand-less one tried to tackle me. It grabbed onto my arm and almost pulled me down, but I sliced off its entire other arm, and it started convulsing on the ground. I chopped off its head, and it fell still.

The Gamemakers applauded kindly from the Loft before returning to their notes. They were already arguing over my score.

I smiled, putting my blade back in the rack. Then I marched out of the room and back up to the hotel room, never once looking back.

 _..._

 _Serephina Manchas, District 2_

As Dameon stalked out of the training room, enraged for some reason I could not even predict, my name was called by Rhesus.

"Serephina Manchas, District 2!"

I sashayed out of my seat and through the doorway, waving and grinning widely at the Gamemakers. Several perked up in their seats, and the Head Gamemaker, Aenea, stared at me, a smile creeping onto her face.

"Turn on the moving mannequins," Aenea said before chewing on the end of her black pen. Oh, so I guess my notoriety precedes me. I didn't even get a chance to show my prowess on immobile mannequins. I chuckled to myself as trainers flicked on two mannequins. They burst to life, holding metal batons. I swooped up my spear and gutted them both in two easy motions. They lay there, paralyzed, on the ground, their wires fritzing and sparking. A few Gamemakers clapped, and I smiled ostentatiously as I picked up the bow from the rack. I notched several arrows and emptied them in quick succession into a variety of targets bolted to the wall. I didn't get bullseye on any of them, but I hit pretty accurately on all of my shots, and the Gamemakers were impressed.

I strutted out of the room confidently, feeling their gaze locked on my disappearing form. Surely, I was on the path to being remembered.

 _..._

 _Cameron Spark, District 3_

After Serephina gracefully glided out of the room, grinning, goddess like, I staggered in. I was dizzy and dazed, but I managed to head over to edible plants. The Gamemakers watched intently as my fingers flew across the game. I matched only edible pairs, to show them I knew which plants were edible and which were not. I did flawlessly on edible plants, but I knew that survival skill alone would not get me a score higher than a 3. I needed to showcase some weaponry.

My eyes shot around. I really hadn't practiced with anything at training, so I picked up the easiest looking weapon; a dagger. It was about 7 inches long and serrated. I attacked a mannequin with it, and, by the looks of the Gamemakers, I was using incorrect form or something as I sawed into the mannequin's plastic shoulder. I sliced into it several more times before Head Gamemaker Aenea Chariton spoke.

"You are dismissed," Aenea proclaimed, and I shamefully placed the dagger back on the weapon rack, trudging out of the room. I had failed, it seemed.

 _..._

 _Kiera Waters, District 4_

I watched as Christopher left the training room, seemingly appeased with the skills he had showcased. I couldn't help but sneer at him as he walked by. He narrowed his eyes at me and quickened his pace, jogging to the elevator that would deposit him in our apartment. I bit my lip to keep from shouting something dirty and nasty at him. At least it seemed he'd gotten over his romantic feelings for me.

I strode into the training room as the Gamemakers prepared their evaluation sheets. I picked up my favored weapon, a trident, and spun it from hand to hand before plunging it into a mannequin, tearing it apart. I ripped apart three more mannequins before Aenea instructed a trainer to turn on a moving one.

I made short work of that moving dummy, rendering it useless after the prongs of my trident went through its neck and disposed of its mechanical head. Then I picked up a spear and lifted it, preparing to throw it. I could feel their eyes on me, and as I threw it, I didn't let go of it perfectly, and it hit the target nicely, but not in the intended area. I gritted my teeth as I was dismissed.

An 11 or a 12 had slipped through my fingers for that mistake. The best I could hope for was a 10.

 _..._

 _Emmer Schuliare, District 5_

I walked into the room, quirking a small smile at the Gamemakers. I decided to amuse them as I picked up the nunchucks on the weapons stand.

"Did you know there's a good chance I'll get a score higher than a zero?" I asked loudly as I prepared to show my skill with the weapons. A few Gamemakers laughed, and the Head Gamemaker, Aenea Chariton, quirked her eyebrow in interest.

"There's a good chance that I will not receive a 12, though I may try my hardest," I joked as I approached a mannequin. I could hear another chorus of laughter, and Aeana was smiling by then.

I flipped the nunchucks from hand to hand, and watched as I pulverized the face of the mannequin. It tipped onto the floor, and I did something I hadn't learned in training, but thought was cool. I wrapped the cord of the nunchucks around the mannequin's neck and squeezed. When I pulled them back, it had left a deep imprint in the plastic. I had basically choked the mannequin.

Then I quickly stood up and picked up a mace. It was heavy, but I made my arms, which had strengthened over the past 3 days, heave it over my head and smash into the "skull" of another mannequin. The mannequin crumpled underneath the force of my weapon.

I knew time was running out, so I quickly darted over to edible plants, and showcased my knowledge for 4 minutes until my allotted 15 minutes was up.

I trotted out of the room, smiling and confident.

 _..._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium, District 6_

I jogged into the room after Steale had left. My District partner had seemed placid, at peace, resigned. Had he done well and was happy about it? Or had he done terribly, and has resigned himself to the fate of a smaller score?

I knew from years of studying that anyone could be a Victor. In the 2nd Games, a boy, Uriah Matherton, age 15, of District 8, won simply by eating insects. He got a training score of 3. Two other Victors had won with a 5 or lower. I also knew that the 6 other Victors, Calla included, had won with high scores, ranging from 6 to even an 11, scored from weaponry skills. Calla had scored a 9.

I pushed all of this from my head as I reached the weapons rack. I plucked out the only dagger, 7 inches, slim, and serrated. Not the perfect fit for me, but it would have to do.

I immediately got into the right form and stabbed the mannequin, circling it slowly. Soon, it had a dozen knife wounds. I tackled it and shoved the dagger into its neck, rendering it "dead".

Then I jumped to my feet and ran over to edible plants. I had roughly 7 minutes left. My fingers flew across the screen. I matched one pair of poisonous plants I hadn't seen while practicing in training, but besides that, I did fine. I smiled, and with a minute left, waved goodbye as I jogged out of the room.

 _..._

 _Chen Evoncurst, District 7_

I walked into the room, looking up shyly at the Gamemakers. Olivanna had just left, seemingly confident, and now it was my turn. I quickly walked over to the weapons rack, picking up an axe and turning to a mannequin in front of me.

I pictured the plastic mannequin as a tree, and will one single chop, I felled it. The plastic went flying into two rubbery pieces, and a few Gamemakers whistled. I chopped apart two other mannequins, watching as I littered the cement training floor with scraps of gray rubber and plastic. I resisted the urge to clean it up, and headed over to the wrestling mat in a rush. I had about 6 minutes left.

Next to the wrestling mat, where a Capitol trainer waited patiently, were two giant weights. I picked one up, heaved it into the air, and tossed it, growling from the effort. The Gamemakers seemed impressed by my skill and strength.

I threw the second weight, tossing it a foot farther than the first. Then I quickly rolled them back into place before making my exit, smiling, feeling accomplished.

 _..._

 _Holly Burnett, District 8_

Burlap marched out of the training room, and I couldn't, for the life of me, read his expression. He just glanced at me, his mouth set in a firm line, before he walked out of sight, to the elevator that would deposit him in our apartment, where our escort and mentor were waiting.

I traipsed into the training room, swiftly running over to the weapons rack. I snatched up a sickle, and quickly cut into the nearest mannequin. I disemboweled three mannequins to the delight of the Gamemakers. They liked seeing weapon-able outer District tributes, sort of like me.

On my fourth mannequin, I sliced all wrong and barely left a mark on the mannequin. The Gamemakers soon became bored after seeing my terrible mistake, so I showed them my other talent, learned at a young age from my mother, who had taught me how to stitch wounds because she knew how to stitch.

"Do you have thread and a needle?" I asked.

A trainer gave me the items, and the Gamemakers were intrigued. I only had 4 minutes left. I quickly knelt beside one of the wounded mannequins, and stitched up the sickle wound I had sliced into its side. I did this on several of the mannequin's wounds until my time was up.

I walked out of the training room, worried about my score. That screw up with the sickle would be fatal to my score. I wouldn't be getting anything better than a 6.

 _..._

 _Calix Jackson, District 9_

I had no idea, honestly, what to try in the training room. One second, Holly was walking from the room, and the next, I was in there. My legs had involuntarily carried me there. Now I stared blankly at the weapons.

I picked up throwing knives and threw them at the target. Only one hit out of the four I threw. I looked up at the Gamemakers. They were practically ignoring me, dissatisfied with my skills. I sighed, trying not to cry. I threw two more knives, which both grossly missed. Not a single eye of any Gamemaker was on me at this point.

I staggered over to shelter making, and pitched a decent, plant made tent in the remaining 8 minutes. A few Gamemakers took notice of my shelter between bites of the feast that had been laid out, but mostly, I was ignored.

I wondered, as I staggered out of the room: was it possible for a tribute to get negative points in their private session?

 _..._

 _Bianca Catalano, District 10_

I smiled as I walked into the room. Bison had just left, dejected. He had obviously done poorly. Now, I would shine in the gloom of the terrible skills that had been shown before me.

I smiled up at the Gamemakers as I grabbed eight throwing knives. They watched eagerly. They wanted to see if I would do well. If I did well, they would continue to watch. They wanted to also see if I did poorly. If I sucked with throwing knives, they'd turn away and focus on their feast.

I threw the first knife, and it hit half an inch from the bullseye. All the Gamemakers watched, silent, smiling. I had gotten their attention.

I threw knife after knife after knife, watching as each sank into the target. And when I'd thrown all 8 knives, I grabbed more, and I continued to throw for the entire 15 minutes allotted to me, never missing the target once. The Gamemakers were surely impressed, looking at the three dozen knives peppering the wooden target as I smirked, walking away.

 _..._

 _Theodore Anderson, District 11_

The moment I walked in, Bianca was leaving. A smug smile was plastered on her small, yet admittedly pretty, pale skinned face. I tried to avoid eye contact with her as I walked into the training room.

I spotted something I liked, something easy; edible plants. I walked over there, looking up at the Gamemakers as I made correct match after correct match. They were paying half attention to me, the other half to the dinner delicacies piled high on their shiny white plates. My stomach grumbled, and my fingers stumbled, and I made an incorrect match. I cursed under my breath before I headed over to weapons.

I picked up a trident and, with the 5 minutes I had left, gutted two mannequins. It was a sloppy job, but I had shown I had at least intermediate skill with the weapon.

I walked away, unsure of how I'd done. Hailea walked in after me, and I gave her a reassuring smile.

 _..._

 _Camillie Montegro, District 12_

I strode into the training room. I was the last one. It seemed that the Gamemakers hadn't been paying much attention to Walter, as he had seemed angry when he left the room. But they perked up when they spotted me. They knew I had a fraction of talent.

I scooped up a sickle and quickly tore apart two mannequins with ease. Then, I picked up an awl and gutted a third mannequin. I switched between sickle and awl for the first 5 minutes, tearing apart another half dozen mannequins to pieces. Then, Aenea instructed two trainers two turn on two moving mannequins. I gutted both in the matter of 3 minutes. The Gamemakers were impressed, and they clapped and smiled at the appropriate times.

Then, I ran over to snares, and assembled two twitch up snares in my remaining 7 minutes. I checked them by throwing small plush critters into them. The snares worked great. The Gamemakers seemed nicely awed by my skills, and I was at peace with how I'd done as I left, excited to see what my score would be.

...

 _ **Scores Revealed**_

...

 _Natalia General, District 1_

Tauria, our Escort, slouched on the couch, her eyes nearly obscured by her heavy layers of green and blue eye shadow. Our Mentor, not the Capitol one, but our only Victor, had arrived earlier today, while we were training, with the others.

Esquiria Pasquale, Victor of the 5th Hunger Games, looked Cephas and I up and down. Esquiria had only been 15 when she'd won; she had gotten a score of 5 and had simply outlasted the others. She seemed to think Cephas would fare well, but she was a bit perplexed by me. She wasn't sure how I'd do. I wasn't sure either.

I couldn't get higher than an 8 because I hadn't made it across the Gauntlet. I knew I'd done decently; I'd thrown knives, and not a single one had missed, and one even hit bullseye. I wasn't sure on how I'd done, though. I hoped I'd gotten an 8, worst case 7.

Suddenly the television came to life, a colorful representation of the Capitol seal blooming across the screen. The anthem played, and I tried not to hum along to the familiar tune. When it was finished, I heard the voice of the host, Toulouse Edwards. He greeted Panem, and then her began to state the scores. Cephas, Tauria, Esquiria, and myself took a collective deep breath.

"Cephas Gold, District 1 Male. 10. Odds: 8-1." Toulouse said. We all congratulated Cephas. That was a great score. Then, I heard my name, and I froze in fear.

"Natalia General, District 1 Female. 8. Odds: 15-1." Toulouse proclaimed. I smiled, and I hugged Cephas tight in celebration. He was stunned at first, but then he returned the hug.

I had a feeling one of us would be coming home this year.

 _..._

 _Dameon Xaine, District 2_

Jorjetta, our kind and comical Escort, sat on the couch, smiling, waving Serephina and myself over. We both slouched into the couch, our bodies tired and worn out from 3 days of near endless training and the stress of the upcoming Games, and the private sessions, too. I looked over at her. She was very beautiful, and she knew that I thought she was attractive. She had turned down all my attempts at flirting and romance, flatly telling me that she wasn't interested in making emotional attachments to anyone. I then responded by asking her why she didn't want to fall in love. She said she could fall in love after she won the Games.

Our two Victors and Mentors, Clay Ross, Victor of the 6th Hunger Games, and Brick Talladega, Victor of the 8th Hunger Games, walked into the room. They shook our hands, hard. They were both hulking masses of muscle, sculpted in the quarries back home. Both had gotten a 10 and and 11, respectively, in training, and had killed at least 5 other tributes. They were forces to be reckoned with.

By the time we were done greeting each other, the anthem and seal had come and gone, and we watched District 1's scores. A 10 and an 8. Decent. We waited, on the edge of our seats, for our own scores. I was worried. I'd screwed up, while wielding my katanas. I'd made a fatal mistake, and one slice of my blade barely cut into the mannequin. I just wanted to get this over with.

"Dameon Xaine, District 2 Male. 9. Odds: 11-1." I growled. A 9. Cephas, and probably Serephina, had done better than me. My parents would not like this. They would not like me doing this, practically scrapping my life, one of the first kills in our strong alliance. I hoped, with all my might, that Serephina had messed up too. I knew she hadn't when I saw the confident smirk on her face.

"Serephina Manchas, District 2 Female. 11. Odds: 3-1."

The room exploded. An 11. The only other person ever to score an 11 was sitting in this room. Brick Talladega, a Victor.

I gulped, weakly congratulating Serephina.

 _..._

 _Catherine Spark, District 3_

I didn't know what to think of what I'd done. I didn't really remember what I'd done. All I knew was that I walked in, picked up a sickle, and then I was walking away, some paint from the camouflage station smeared on my arms. I had no idea if I'd shown something 3 worthy, something 6 worthy, or something amazing. I really hoped I'd pulled a miracle and gotten something higher than a 4 or 5.

Our Escort, Rwanda, smiled at the two of us. She probably thought we were nothing, scrawny little cannon fodder. I hoped she was wrong.

Our District did not yet have a Victor, so the Capitol supplied a tough, meaner man named Uriel Fless for us. He didn't really talk to us much, he just read books and tried not to sneer at us whenever we asked a "stupid" question.

Before I knew it, District 1 and 2's scores were flying by. 10, 8, 9, 11. I squeezed my eyes shut. My head hurt. Those high of scores...it was unfair. I would have to hold my own against someone with an 8, with a 9, with a 10, with an 11. Suddenly I heard Toulouse's voice speaking my brother's name, and I perked up.

"Cameron Spark, District 3 Male. 5. Odds: 31-1."

Cameron barely kept from crying, and I tried to console him, but then I heard my name.

"Catherine Spark, District 3 Female. 7. Odds: 18-1."

I was shocked into silence. Uriel, surprised, congratulated me. So did Rwanda. Cameron just stared at me, his jaw slack.

"You're not my sister anymore," he whispered, and he stormed away to his room.

He was right. I was no longer Catherine Spark. I was becoming someone new entirely.

 _..._

 _Christopher Tidesworth, District 4_

Kiera and I sat on opposite ends of the giant plush couch. She looked at me warily as we waited for everyone else to arrive. Our Escort and our Victor/Mentor were preparing some snacks. I just thought about what I'd done in the private sessions.

I'd been showing off my moderate skill with tridents. I'd planned to show off my fire making skills, but they dismissed me before I even had a chance to pick up some twigs and a shard of flint or a match. Now, I had to hope my trident skills were enough to get me a decent score.

Our Escort, Tiny walked in first, carrying a steaming plate of sauced shrimp that had surely been prepared by an Avox. Tiny in fact was not that tiny, standing at 5'4''. She was short, but not tiny.

Then our Victor/Mentor walked in. Oisin O'Cobb was a towering, 6 and a quarter foot tall tower of muscle who had won the 3rd Hunger Games with pure skill with a trident. He'd inspired the next generation to think about tridents as more than fishing tools and learn to use them as weapons.

Oisin and Tiny sat down between Kiera and I, and the tension settled. The program started, and Kiera watched aptly as her allies from Districts 1 and 2 earned scores of 8 or higher. The twins from 3 got a 5 and a 7, and then it was our turn.

"Christopher Tidesworth, District 4 Male. 6. Odds: 24-1."

I smiled, satisfied with my score. Kiera glowered at me. She'd been expecting me to get a 2, probably.

"Kiera Waters, District 4 Female. 9. Odds: 10-1." She seemed a little angered, grumbling something about "shoulda gotta 10."

At least one of us was happy with his score.

 _..._

 _Caitlin Theardie, District 5_

We were Victor-less. I wanted to make that change.

Our Capitol Mentor, Askia, was a total ass. Hands down, anyone would agree. I wanted to come home, and give the next kids a better experience before they died than _this._

He was just glaring at me as I asked him questions about the Games, ignoring me. He'd been standoffish the entire time, and I couldn't handle it. He was supposed to be here to help us, but all he was doing was severely agitating me. I cracked my knuckles, ticked off. I shot an angry glare at him, which was returned with an even fierier glower from Askia. I sighed, giving up on our wordless argument, watching as the program started.

I had shot my bow and arrows and done splendidly, as expected. I shot 12 arrows, and two hits the bullseye. Not a single one missed the target. I would guess that I got an 8 or 9. I waited patiently for the scores to air. Soon, the seal and anthem were flashing across the screen and filling my ears, and then I watched as Districts 1 and 2 scored high. Then District 3. The girl Spark twin got a _7._ I'd underestimated her, I guess.

District 4 flew by, Christopher getting an average score, Kiera getting a good one. Then it was our turn.

"Emmer Schuliare, District 5 Male. 8. Odds: 17-1." Emmer smiled exuberantly, satisfied with his score.

"Caitlin Theardie, District 5 Female. 9. Odds: 10-1."

I cheered, smiling. Maybe District 5 would bring home someone to replace wretched Askia this year.

 _..._

 _Steale Boeing, District 6_

Calla Espenson, Victor of the 9th Hunger Games, just last year, stared at me, arms crossed.

I could tell that she was not impressed with either me or Olivanna. She'd arrived only two hours ago, and had only seen us on TV before we met only minutes ago. They got out of the train wreck, and now they are here, ready to "Mentor." It's a little too late for that. I've already learned too much from our Capitol Mentor, Jeptha Sydson. She'll try to change the strategy I've devised. I'm going to just run away from the Cornucopia, no questions asked. Jeptha and I agreed that it's the best idea. Calla will want me to run into the melee and probably get myself killed.

I thought about what I did in private sessions. I threw knives and did okay, I guess, then I tied some exemplary knots. But no one really cares about knots, do they? They only care about that weapons, and that is the area I lacked in.

I looked over at Olivanna, who had her eyes on the TV. I realized that the program has started. I'd missed District 1-4, but I watched as Emmer received an 8 and Caitlin a 9. I took in a deep breath as my score was stated.

"Steale Boeing, District 6 Male. 5. Odds: 32-1."

I shuddered. A 5. Not _terrible._ Not anywhere near good, either.

"Olivanna Sanatorium, District 6 Female. 6. Odds: 22-1."

Olivanna smiled, sort of okay with her score. We both looked at Calla, who just tried to weakly smile.

That's when we knew we were royally screwed.

 _..._

 _Bethany Taylor, District 7_

I curled up into the couch, snuggling up against a puffy, feathery pillow. Chen scooted over and smiled down at me. He took my hand, and squeezed it tight, reassuringly. His eyes locked on mine, and his hand did not fall from mine.

"I got your back, Bethany," he said, something I couldn't name tinging his voice. I felt something flutter in my chest and I cursed myself. We were both falling for each other. Dammit.

"I know, Chen," I murmured, and I couldn't resist the urge. I leaned forward, and our lips lightly met.

Our moment was shattered when our Escort, Dyanna Wang, and our Victor-Mentor, Oakes of the 4th Games, walked in. They saw our hands holding each other, and our faces an inch apart. Dyanna just said "Tsk, tsk" while Oakes smiled at us kindly. As Dyanna left to go retrieve something, he sat beside us.

"It's sweet, to fall in love before the Games. It's nice to experience life just in case you don't make it back," Oakes said. "Just know the pain of living with it is unbearable. My District partner, Jacqueline...it is hard to lose someone you fall head over heels for," Oakes murmured. "Enjoy the now. I won't reprimand you guys."

I snuggled up close to Chen, and he tentatively put his hand on my shoulder, gripping it softly. Dyanna strode into the room and just ignored us, exasperated with us. I didn't blame her, but I didn't want to move. I quickly ran through what I'd done in training in my head, and then told Chen. I told him about slicing apart mannequins and then throwing some throwing axes. He said he tore apart some mannequins with an axe and then lifted some heavy weights.

The program began. Good scores for 1 and 2. Catherine, with a 7! Wow! Good scores for 4 and 5. Average scores for 6. Then it was our turn.

"Chen Evoncurst, District 7 Male. 8. Odds: 16-1." I smiled up at him, squeezing his hand.

"Bethany Taylor, District 7 Female. 8. Odds: 16-1." I grinned, and Chen and I tenderly kissed again. This was new, rushed. But I was happy. I'd never fallen in love before, and I didn't want to possibly die without ever feeling the delirious sensation of falling head over heels for someone.

I hugged Chen tight, happy about our scores and our new found feelings.

"I'll protect you," Chen whispered. "I'll protect you."

 _..._

 _Burlap Thomasson, District 8_

I waited in the apartment on the couch along with Holly. We were cordial to each other, but we were barely acquaintances. We had no real connection, unlike many of the tributes had with their District partners. Because of this, a heavy, awkward silence hung in the air.

Our escort, Molly Crows, and our Victor-Mentor, Uriah Matherton, Victor of the 2nd Hunger Games, walked into the room. Silence still permeated the room as we all sat there. The only person I'd made a connection with was our Capitol Mentor, Iygra. But now she was gone, replaced by Uriah, who had survived purely on bugs and would not be any help to me.

I thought about the skill I'd shown in the private sessions; maces. I'd done decently. Hopefully I would get a decent score.

After 5 minutes of sitting around, the program stirred to life on the TV. I ignored most of the program, noting that Serephina received an 11 and Catherine got a 7. Then, suddenly, I heard my name and my score.

"Burlap Thomasson, District 8 Male. 5. Odds: 32-1." I sighed. Okay, I guess?

"Holly Burnett, District 8 Female. 6. Odds: 21-1." Holly seemed content with her score.

Hopefully I'd pull a Uriah Matherton and survive purely on some obscure skill learned in training.

 _..._

 _Andrea Matches, District 9_

I sat a good distance away from Calix. At dinner, he'd scarfed down spoonful after spoonful of rich food, and I didn't want him puking again, especially not all over me. I felt bad for him, because I had a feeling he'd scored low, and he wouldn't make it that far. He didn't have much skill. At least I had some. He didn't have allies. I had 3. I had, for some time, contemplated letting him join, just to appease his nerves, but I knew the others would never go for it.

Our escort, Kana Ray, and our Victor-Mentor, Unity Carden, Victor of the 1st Hunger Games, strode into the room. It was remarkable how District 9 had scored the first Victor, but had only been in the Top 8 a couple more times. We'd gotten lucky, too lucky, in the first Games. Unity hadn't won by hiding; she was strong and brutal and had killed several. Only at the end did she outlast the final 2 others by finding sources of food while they starved to death.

Unity seemed to get along with me. The Carden's had fought with my parents in the Dark Days. They were close, and I'd been over Unity's Victor Village house once for a dinner. It had been awkward, yet awesome at the same time.

I contemplated what I'd done in training. I'd stabbed some dummies with a long, serrated dagger, and then I'd shown adequate skill at edible plants. I wasn't sure what I'd gotten, though it couldn't be higher than a 7.

I realized that the scores were airing, and it was already at District 6. Olivanna nabbed a 6, while Steale got a 5. Then, District 7. I smiled, overjoyed, as Chen and Bethany got 8s. I watched, also, as Holly's face filled the screen. A 6 for her. Decent.

Then, it was our District's turn.

"Calix Jackson, District 9 Male. 3. Odds: 53-1."

Calix groaned quietly, putting his face in his hands.

"Andrea Matches, District 9 Female. 6. Odds: 21-1." I grinned. Chen and Bethany had gotten 8s, and Holly and I had gotten 6s. Okay. Good, actually.

Our alliance would do well. I knew it.

 _..._

 _Bison Seville, District 10_

Kasia Ritter, our Escort, pranced around the room, insistent on knowing what we'd gotten in training. Bianca seemed proud to share.

"I threw knives the entire time, and not a single one missed the board," she proclaimed proudly.

"I stabbed a dummy with a dagger and then did edible plants," I murmured. I knew I'd done terribly. The dagger had barely left more than a few centimeter deep cuts on the dummy. I'd done well on edible plants, but I doubted I'd done well enough.

Scores flew by. I grabbed onto some random ones. A 9 for Dameon. A 6 for Christopher. An 8 for Chen. A 5 for Burlap. A 6 for Andrea. Then, our District was up. Kasia, Bianca, our Capitol Mentor, Tassel Fyns, and myself all took in a collective breath.

"Bison Seville, District 10 Male. 4. Odds: 40-1." I bit my lip to keep a tear from slipping down my cheek.

"Bianca Catalano, District 10 Female. 8. Odds: 15-1." Bianca seemed okay with her score, though she loudly commented that she should've gotten a 9.

I just shook my head. How could you not be happy with an 8!?

 _..._

 _Hailea Himalayan, District 11_

"Do you guys know lots about plants?" Our Victor-Mentor, Pumpkin Little, Victor of the 7th Hunger Games, asked.

"I do," I told her. Theodore said he did, too.

"That's all you need. You both have allies. You have friends, and you know how to get food. That's what got me to the end of my Games," Pumpkin declared with a grin. "Scores don't really matter much, unless there's more than 2 over 9. Then you have a problem. The strong ones always band together."

I nodded, thinking about what I'd done in training as our escort, Mina, sat. I was happy that Discus had left. There was no more tension in the apartment.

I turned back to the training in my mind. I'd shown skill with edible plants, and I'd set a decent twitch up snare and stabbed some mannequins with an awl. I'd guess it warranted me a 5 or 6.

I watched for all my allies' scores. Cameron, a 5. Catherine, a 7! I was so happy for her. Olivanna, a 6. Good. Bison, a 4. Not the best, but workable. Then it was my District's turn.

"Theodore Anderson, District 11 Male. 6. Odds: 22-1." Theodore seemed pleased.

"Hailea Himalayan, District 11 Female. 6. Odds: 21-1." I smiled pleasantly. An okay score.

Now only District 12 was left.

 _..._

 _Walter Inlaen, District 12_

We, of course, did not have a Victor-Mentor, although our Capitol Mentor, Solomon Reyes, was decent. Our Escort was motherly and kind, named Edna Trinket. She made me feel at home, something nothing else had done in the Capitol. I would miss her when I went into the Games.

I looked over at Camillie. She seemed confident. It wasn't fair that she, only 15, seemed to be stronger than me and had an astounding 5 allies, and she seemed to be the leader. I just squeezed my eyes shut. I'd simply thrown spears, and done okay. It had to be okay. Everything would be okay.

I didn't really pay attention to the program until I suddenly heard my name, and my face was filling up the TV screen.

"Walter Inlaen, District 12 Male. 5. Odds: 35-1." I shuddered. No. Zachary had gotten a 5. He had gotten 35-1 odds. I swore, if the Capitol was messing with me...

"Camillie Montegro, District 12 Female. 8. Odds: 17-1." Camillie, Solomon, and Edna cheered, celebrating her high score.

I just rolled my eyes and stalked off to bed.

 _..._

 _ **Comprehensive List of Scores/Skills Shown**_

Cephas Gold: 10, Swords

Natalia General: 8, Throwing knives

Dameon Xaine: 9, Katanas and daggers

Serephina Manchas: 11, Bow and arrows and spear

Cameron Spark: 5, Edible plants and daggers

Catherine Spark: 7, Camouflage and sickles

Christopher Tidesworth: 6, Tridents

Kiera Waters: 9, Tridents and spears

Emmer Schuliare: 8, Nunchucks, maces, and edible plants

Caitlin Theardie: 9, Bow and arrows

Steale Boeing: 5, Throwing knives and knots

Olivanna Sanatorium: 6, Daggers and edible plants

Chen Evoncurst: 8, Axes and weight lifting

Bethany Taylor: 8, Axes and throwing axes

Burlap Thomasson: 5, Maces

Holly Burnett: 6, Sickles and wound stitching

Calix Jackson: 3, Throwing knives and shelter making

Andrea Matches: 6, Daggers and edible plants

Bison Seville: 4, Edible plants and daggers

Bianca Catalano: 8, Throwing knives

Theodore Anderson: 6, Edible plants and tridents

Hailea Himalayan: 6, Edible plants, awls, and snares

Walter Inlaen: 5, Spears

Camillie Montegro: 8, Sickles, snares, and awls

...

A/N: Private sessions are officially OVER! Now, just the interviews, and then...the big, scary Bloodbath!

Not really much to say for this chapter, but here's a lot of questions.

1\. Favorite POV

2\. Least Favorite POV

3\. Most surprising score?

4\. Any scores too high or too low?

5\. What do you think about Bethany and Chen? (Chenany or Bethen? Ha! Their romance wasn't planned but it came to me randomly and I just did it, I guess. If their creators don't like it, I can break it off before the Games start.)

6\. What do you think about the past Victors?

Okay, sorry for all of the questions, but I'm done with those now. I hope you enjoyed the Private Sessions. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to format the interviews, but I'll tell you at the beginning of that chapter.

Oh, and because I thought this would be cool, I'm going to show you the average score of each alliance and then the loners.

Young and Free (Cameron, Catherine, Olivanna, Bison, Camillie, and Hailea): about 6

Strong and Mighty (Career-ish. Cephas, Natalia, Dameon, Serephina, Kiera, and Emmer): about 9

Ferocity (Caitlin and Bianca): 8.5

Fabulous Four (Chen, Bethany, Holly, and Andrea): 7

Water and Apples (Christopher and Theodore): 6

Loners (Not an alliance. Steale, Burlap, Calix, and Walter): 4.5

Until next time!

-Tracee


	16. Interviews

A/N: So this is how the interviews will work; for 4 Districts, the POV will be a tribute. For another 4 Districts, the POV will be a Victor-Mentor. And for the last 4 Districts, the POV will be a Capitol Citizen. Here it is! It's very lengthy (7,700+ words), I'm sorry if it's repetitive and boring. I know it took a long time to come out, but I've been focusing on 500 Years of Penance for a bit, life has been life and has kept me busy elsewhere, and stuff like this is hard to write when the next chapter is the BLOODBATH!

...

 _Toulouse Edwards, 38, Hunger Games Master of Ceremonies and Capitol Citizen: District 1 Interviews_

"Welcome Panem, to the Interviews of the 10th Annual Hunger Games!" I boomed loudly. The Capitol crowd, over fifty thousand quirky and fabricated people packed into the large theater, roared in response.

"Can I hear the names of your favorite tribute?" I inquired loudly. The screams of the crowd mixed together in a messy cacophony, although one name could be picked out from the rest. _Serephina. Serephina. Serephina. Serephina. Serephina._ The chanters, gathered in the front row, screamed her name as loud as their lungs would allow them. They toted signs plastered with her face, her words. _Serephina Manchas, District 2's Third Victor!_ one sign proclaimed. Another cried, in loud, vibrant green print _The girl with an 11; can she make 11 kills? I think she can!_

I spotted signs for nearly every tribute. While signs for Serephina, Cephas, Dameon, Natalia, Kiera, Catherine, Caitlin, Bianca, Chen, Camillie, and Bethany dominated the crowd, they weren't the only ones. Heck, I even spotted a bright purple one for Calix, the male from 9 who had scored a measly 3. Everyone had a fan. I'd learned that from 10 years of hosting the Hunger Games. Even the weakest tributes sometimes received sponsor gifts from small sects of rich aristocrats who wanted to shake up the Games. Esquiria, the District 1 Victor, was fighting hand to hand with the male from 3, who was about to crush her wind pipe. A sponsor gift, a tiny little piece of bread, flew down. The parachute distracted the District 3 boy, as intended, and Esquiria was able to snap his neck. District 1's first and, as of the 9th Games, only Victor sure had an interesting path to Victory.

Speaking of District 1, Natalia General, their female tribute, slowly walked onto the stage. She was dressed in a pink cocktail dress with pale pink heels that were a little too tall for her. She had little pink pearls threaded through her braided brown hair, and her lips were coated in light pink lipstick. She seemed innocent, a total girly-girl, though the angle had been a little overdone. She didn't seem like a confident or capable tribute. She seemed like a little child trapped in the Games, which she was not. She had scored an 8. She should not be portrayed like this.

I pushed away my own opinions as I welcomed her.

"Natalia!" I exclaimed. She smiled at me, tugging her dress over her legs after she sat down across from me in a plush chair. I sat as well, and I smiled at her. I quickly racked my mind for an inciting question, and I quickly found it.

"What do you think about your score, Natalia?" I asked her, smiling encouragingly at her.

"I think an 8 is very fitting for my ability level. I can definitely make an 8 work and win this Games."

I nodded. This was not going to be a special interview by any means.

"So, do you have any allies?" I inquired.

"5, actually," I said, to the immediate surprise of the crowd. They began to chat as I stared at her.

"Who?" I asked, interested. Maybe it would be a decent interview.

"I'd like to keep it a secret," she said, chuckling. The crowd groaned, but I nodded. They would be thinking who her allies were all night until her allies revealed themselves one by one. She would stay in their minds. Staying in a Capitol citizen's mind meant getting sponsors. Smart girl.

We had about a minute and a half left, so I asked her about life back home.

"I have two twin sisters, only a year old, named Nadia and Alice." The crowd let out a collective _aww._

"Anyone special back home?" I asked. The interview was nearing an end.

"I'm not exactly sure," she admitted. "I'm very close with the girl I volunteered for, Velvet."

"Oh, so you know her? You're not one of those 'Careers', as people are calling them?"

"No, Velvet is my best friend. I couldn't sentence her to the Games; she has a limp and can't run fast."

I could tell from her expression that the limp part was a lie, but our time was up, and I didn't question her motives for lying as Cephas strode onto the stage.

"Hello, Toulouse," he said. He was dressed in a blue dress shirt with a black blazer, black slacks, and blue dress shoes. He looked nice and sharp.

"Hello, Cephas," I replied. "So, are you by any chance part of the 6 person alliance Natalia is part of?"

"Possibly, Toulouse," he smirked, and the audience instantly knew he was in it. They were further intrigued.

"How do you feel about getting a 10! That's a wonderful score! How did you even get it?"

"I feel great about getting the 10. I got it because I am a 'Career', I guess. My parents had me trained in case I ever got Reaped so I could defend myself, and I entered the Games because I am fit and able, and I didn't want some poor kid to die when I could easily win."

The crowd loved this. He was making a sacrifice. I knew he really was doing it for the fame and riches and women, but obviously he would not admit that truth in front of every person in Panem on live TV.

"Family?" I asked him.

"Just me and my parents," he said. "My dad's a perfumer, and my mom's a Capitol hair stylist. In fact, she's on my Prep Team! Hi, Mom! Thanks for the great hairdo!"

The crowd cackled, and Cephas simpered before I told him that his time was up. He waved to the raging crowd, and then he was gone.

 _..._

 _Brick Talladega, 20, Victor of the 8th Hunger Games, District 2 Resident: District 2 Interviews_

"You're up, Serephina," I whispered in my tribute's ear. "Go get 'em."

She smiled pleasantly at me, and then she glided out onto the stage. She looked absolutely stunning. She was dressed in a dress similar to the one she wore in the chariots. It was a long white dress, with gold threads making intricate, beautiful shapes all across it. She wore golden heels, a golden necklace, and several golden rings. And, on her head, was a green painted iron laurel. She looked like a goddess, like she often did. She looked like she could be an actual Victor candidate, which she was.

"Hello, Toulouse," she said, her voice carrying throughout the entire theater.

"Hello, Serephina. How do you feel to be the second person in the history of the Hunger Games to score an 11?!"

"I feel blessed. It's nice to know that I'll have something else impressive beside my title as Victor." The crowd laughed.

"So, Serephina, are you part of Natalia and Cephas's alliance?" Toulouse asked eagerly.

"Yep," she said, grinning. "Does the crowd want to guess the other three?"

Before anyone could say anything, Serephina had plucked the microphone out of Toulouse's hands and sat on the edge of the stage. The Capitols in the front row went crazy.

"Any guesses?" she asked them. Damn, was she engaging and memorable. She was going to get quite a few sponsors, I knew it.

"DAMEON!" a woman dressed in a lavender ballgown screamed.

"Yes! Great guess! Any others?"

"Ch...chen?" a skinny, tall man questioned.

"Nope."

"Kiera?"

"Yes! One more!"

A little boy, barely 6, walked up to the microphone and grabbed it.

"Elmer?" he asked, his voice boyish and his letters slurred.

"Emmer is the last one!" Serephina chorused, and then her interview was over. The crowd was loving it, talking about it animatedly.

Dameon slipped onto the stage. He was dressed in a gray tux with gray slacks.

"So, Dameon, you're part of the big alliance?" Toulouse inquired.

"Yep," Dameon said. "We're definitely going to dominate." Crap, he was getting nervous. This wasn't going to turn out well. At least he was Clay's tribute.

"How do you feel about getting a 9?"

"Personally, I think I deserve a 10," he growled. There goes some sponsors. "I deserve it a lot, like more than anyone." And there's the rest of the sponsors, out the door. At least he was allies with others who would be getting lots of sponsors.

"Oh, well, good for you," Toulouse mumbled, unsure of how to continue. I'd personally slap some sense into the boy. I might even break his nose for good measure.

"How's life back home?" Toulouse finally said.

"I have an older brother, Dy'lan, and two younger sisters, Baylor and Bailey, and then my parents."

"Ah, I see," Toulouse replied. Then Dameon's interview ended.

Boy, had he royally screwed up.

 _..._

 _Catherine Spark, 12, District 3 Female Tribute of the 10th Hunger Games: District 3 Interviews_

The second Dameon stalked off of the stage, I walked out, smiling and waving quickly to the crowd before sitting down in the chair across from Toulouse. He seemed genuinely excited to see me. I was a novelty; I was pretty sure almost no one had scored a 7 or higher from District 3 in the entire history of the Games. We were usually bloodbath kills, easy slaughters. I could possibly be our very first Victor. I had never though about that concept before; I'd mostly believed this to be a death sentence. But the 7 was the light at the end of a very long tunnel. If I could make it to the end, I would survive. The only thing; if I won, I would have to live without Cameron for the rest of my life.

I grinned at Toulouse, and he just chuckled.

"You're so cute, Catherine!" he said. "Am I right, or am I right!?"

I heard screams for me, and pretty much everyone laughing at Toulouse's joke. I saw dozens of signs proclaiming me, little old me, as a Victor contender. Is that what happens when you get a 7 in District 3!?

"WE LOVE YOU!" two women, one dyed purple, the other tangerine, screamed from their seats. Everyone laughed again.

"So, how does it feel to be the first District 3 tribute to score a 7?" Toulouse asked, smiling.

"Great. I was scared for the Games. Come on, who wouldn't be scared? But the score makes me feel better."

"Any alliances?"

"Now, this might sound like I'm copying off of Serephina and all, but I'm part of another 6 person alliance."

"Golly, really! Guessing game time?"

"Well, you can probably assume one of my allies. The rest, well, you'll have to wait."

Toulouse cracked a smile, and then my time was up. He waved goodbye as I stood. I looked down at my gray dress, smiling as the little pink diamonds on it twinkled and shone. Just like I was starting to.

Cameron walked by, wearing a nice gray suit, his mouth curled in a frown. He plastered on a fake smile as he sat beside Toulouse.

"So, Cam, I'm guessing your part of Catherine's alliance?" Toulouse said, leaning back into his chair.

"Yep," Cameron said, trying to push away his nerves and his unexplained anger. Was he still ticked off about the scores? He knew as well as I did that they meant little in the real Hunger Games.

"Any clues to who else is in it?"

"Well, we call it the Young and Free, and we're all 15 years or younger," Cameron said, cracking a true smile. There was my twin, my brother.

"Exciting! How is family back home?" I was relieved that Toulouse was avoiding Cameron's score.

"Well, it's just me and Catherine and our parents, really," Cameron admitted.

"Only you and your sister?!" Toulouse said. "Bad luck for the Spark family."

"Yeah," Cameron murmured, and then his time was up.

I sincerely hoped we'd done well enough to score a few sponsors.

...

 _Fracas Clurgenn, 28, Socialite, Jeweler, Capitol Citizen, and Major Kiera Waters Fanatic: District 4 Interviews_

I grinned as Kiera Waters pranced onto the stage, waving slyly to the crowd. They cheered for her. I screamed my lungs out, brandishing my thick, navy blue sign towards her. I had scored a front row seat just to cheer on the girl I'd spent a quarter of my yearly salary on in the betting house.

"GO KIERA!" I yelled, and others around me cheered.

"Looks like you have a die hard fan," Toulouse commented, chuckling, as Kiera and Toulouse read my sign.

 _Kiera Waters: The Future 10th Hunger Games Victor. More beauty than Calla! More fire than Oakes! More kills than Brick! Almost as cool as Uriah!_

Even Kiera chuckled at the last line; Uriah was anything but cool. I beamed with pride. She LIKED it! EEEEEEK!

I intently watched her interview, licking my lips as she answered her first question.

"So, how do you feel about getting a 9?"

"I made a small mistake in the Private Sessions, which cost me a higher score. I think I'm capable of more though, and I'm going to win this!"

I couldn't help myself. I let out a high pitched screech at that. The man next to me just rolled his eyes.

"Calm it, Fracas. I know your name means noisy conversation, but can you tone it down a bit?"

I just shoved my sign in his face, whacking him with it, before turning back to the interview. She'd been asked a question about being in Serephina's alliance.

"Our alliance is going to dominate. And I don't think it's solely Serephina's alliance, she's not the leader. It's everyone one of our's alliance."

"BE THE LEADER, KIERA! BE THE LEADER!" I shrieked. The man next to me wapped me with his Chen Evoncurst sign. I just growled at him.

Kiera glided off the stage, her interview over. Christopher came out after her. He wasn't anything special, but I listened nonetheless. Maybe he knew some secret things about Kiera that I would _die_ to know about.

"So, I've heard that things are a little rough between you and Kiera," Toulouse said.

"That's an understatement. She hates me, though I try to be nice," Christopher replied.

"IF SHE DOES NOT LIKE YOU, IT IS BECAUSE YOU LITERALLY SUCK!" I screamed. The woman next to me, hoisting two signs, one for Holly Burnett, one for goddamn _Christopher,_ slapped me.

"How do you feel about your score, a 6?"

"I think it's decent. Other Victors have proven, though, that score does not matter."

"YES IT DOES, YOU SONOFA-" I was slapped by both Chen-man and Chris-Holly-woman. A Peacekeeper strolled over.

"Do we need to remove you from the premises, sir?" the man asked.

"Any alliances?" Toulouse asked Christopher.

"I have one ally, but we want to keep it a secret," Christopher admitted.

"IS YOUR ALLY IMAGINARY?!" I screamed. The Peacekeeper grabbed me by my teal dyed hair and dragged me out of the building as Caitlin Theardie walked onto the stage.

 _..._

 _Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female Tribute of the 10th Hunger Games: District 5 Interviews_

I saw three dozen people hoisting signs for me in the audience, mostly colored orange. I guess someone had let it slip that my dress would be tangerine orange. I barely managed to walk over normally to the chair; they'd taken my glasses away and put me in heels. I waved at my supporters before sitting down in the chair across from Toulouse.

"Hello, Caitlin. So, do you have any allies?" We're jumping right in, aren't we? Well, it is Toulouse. It should be expected. He's very spontaneous.

"I have only one ally, and, no, it is not Christopher," I said. "But I think _she_ would like to share her identity with you when she comes on stage."

"So many alliances this year," Toulouse said. "I wonder if there's anyone _not_ in an alliance! Haha! Anywho, what do you think of an astounding _9_ as your training score! The highest score from District 5 so far in the Games was an 8 from the 4th Games. You've made history!"

"I'm delighted to get such a high score, but a 9 doesn't mean I'm invincible. I'm not going to be over confident and I will never let my guard down. So, anyone who is thinking about taking me out, rethink it."

"Sassy! I like it!" Toulouse said. A few fans cheered.

"Me and my ally are sassy, ferocious, even. That's why our alliance is named Ferocity."

"I think I may be starting to guess who your hidden ally is, but I'll keep quiet until she comes on stage. Now, last question. How's family back home in 5?"

"Well, I live with my grandmother. Her health is declining and she has no other relatives. I need to make it back to her." The crowd made strange noises that I guessed were the equivalent of sympathy.

"Alright, Cailtin, time's up." I stood and jogged off the stage, smiling weakly at Emmer as he walked over to the chair and sat. He didn't have his glasses either, and he was dressed in a classic black and white tux.

"So, Emmer, how does it feel to have one of the highest scores ever from your District, an 8?"

"Well, statistically speaking, I should fare in about the Top 10% for tributes from my District that have entered the Games. Now, there's quite a few others with the same score and others who have a higher score, so, while an 8 is impressive, it doesn't place me terribly high in the statistical rankings. But, statistics are statistics, Toulouse. Nothing really matters until the arena."

"True. Do you have District 3 heritage?"

"I must! Did you know that one out of every two Capitol citizens finds pale, scrawny District 3 males sexy?"

The crowd chuckled. The male Spark twin glowered at Emmer, and I just rolled my eyes. The kid couldn't take a joke, wow.

"So how's your alliance?"

"I find it assuring to be with the tributes with the best scores, besides my District partner, Caitlin, of course. I feel pretty confident that we'll be able to muster a Victor from our group."

"We shall see, we shall see," Toulouse said. Then Emmer's time was up, and he walked away as Olivanna slowly walked onto the stage.

 _..._

 _Calla Espenson, 17, Victor of the 9th Hunger Games, Resident of District 6: District 6 Interviews_

I watched, clenching my jaw, as Olivanna strode onto the stage. She was dressed in a shiny, tin-foil like dress that was tinted light blue. The lights shone on it just the right way, and it twinkled prettily. I'd been scared that the thing would blind some of the audience, and the girl would have no chance with sponsors.

"Hi, Toulouse," Olivanna said shyly, twiddling her thumbs together. I nibbled my lip nervously. This was my first year as a Mentor, and I was worried for this girl. It was different, watching tributes die that you met. When watching from home, you can distance yourself from them, even if you'd seen them on the street before or knew them, sort of. You could pretend it was someone else. But here, guiding them, you learned all about them. They both were not naive or innocent. They both knew their chances of survival were slim. It would be hard to see them die, because I wasn't being naive, either, and I knew neither of them had a realistic chance of nabbing the title of Victor.

"Hello, Olivanna. So, how's your family back at home?"

"Well there's me, my parents, and my older brother, Xavier. He's 16."

"Are you part of an alliance?"

"A 6 member one."

"We've found the third member of the 'Young and Free'!" Toulouse exclaimed excitedly. I rolled my eyes. I'd spent time with Toulouse before, after my Games, one on one. I knew all of his excitement was an act for the masses. His life, like so many other's, was a simple charade.

"So, how do you feel about scoring a 6? At least it matches your District!" Toulouse inquired.

"A 6 fits my talent level well. Also, like so many have said and so many will say, score doesn't really matter, as long as you don't score in the negatives!" The crowd chuckled a bit at her weak attempt of a joke. Then Olivanna was being waved off, and Steale trotted onto the stage, trying to seem confident.

"So, Steale," Toulouse began. "How do you feel about getting a 5?"

"It's okay, I guess," he said. "It's not terrible but it's definitely not the greatest, either."

"Are you, by chance, in Olivanna's alliance?" Toulouse asked.

"I think I'm the only one so far who's going solo," Steale said. "Usually most tributes go it alone, but I guess I'm the irregularity this year."

 _Not really_ I thought. _Last year, my partner, Magnus, scored a 5. Garry killed him the bloodbath. The year before that, the boy, my neighbor, named Railson, scored better, a 6. He died two hours after the bloodbath from blood loss. Year before that? Tyler Haines, 4, bloodbath kill. And the year before that one? Bartunek, the strangest name. Morphling addict, he got a 2 for painting on the floor, apparently. He begged the District 4 Female, his ally, to stab him to death Day 3 after going through withdrawal. She did so before being killed herself by mutts. So no, Steale Boeing, you are_ not _an irregularity._

"What's family like back home?" Steale visibly gulped, and sweat broke out on his brow.

"My father died very recently, so, if I were to return home, it would just be me and my mom. And if I die..." He got choked up, and Toulouse gave him a pat of sympathy.

"Now, onto District 7!" he cried after Steale had stood and walked into off the stage. Bethany waltzed forward, and I gave a sigh of relief. It was over.

 _..._

 _President Gaius Snow, 41, President of Panem and Capitol Resident: District 7 Interviews_

My brow furrowed and my mouth curled into a ugly frown as I watched Bethany Taylor waltz onto the stage. She seemed too...happy. Sure, she had received a training score of 8, and good score for a young woman from the Lumber District. But she seemed jovial, caring, _in love._ I really hoped the poor girl hadn't garnered a crush on any of her fellow tributes. That relationship would most definitely end in tears, blood, and death.

I looked over at my wife Tullia, to my left, and my 10 year old son, Coriolanus, to my right. I gave a knowing look to both, and they immediately began to study Bethany to see what had perturbed me about her.

"So, Bethany, any alliances?" Toulouse asked, inciting the interview.

"Well, I'm part of a 4 person one," Bethany admitted.

"Wow!" Toulouse exclaimed. "So there's the two 6 person ones, equals 12, plus Bethany's alliance, which equals 16, plus Caitlin's pair and Christopher's pair, which equals 20! Only 4 tributes are on their own this year!"

"It's definitely going to be different in the arena this year," Bethany commented.

Was she referring to the fact that _she_ might be part of something different? I called over an Avox.

"Have Peacekeepers run tests over Bethany Taylor's family lineage. If you find a single rebel since the Dark Days ended among her ancestors, order Head Gamemaker Aenea Chariton to blow her sky high the second before the Games begin."

The Avox nodded dutifully, scribbling down notes, before dashing off, over to where Aenea was sitting, at a raised platform at the other side of the theater.

"So, how's things back home?" Toulouse asked.

"Well, I live with my parents and my little sister, Yetta and Panema, in a joint apartment we share with a couple named the Krenson's. I miss my little sister so much." This sparked a great deal of sympathy and conversation in the crowd.

"And, finally, how do you feel about receiving an 8?"

"Great!" she exclaimed, giggling, and the crowd roared in appreciation of her funny rhyme. Then she was dancing off the stage, twirling a bit in her emerald green ball gown. It was in fact stunning and shows off her figure. If I were a naive younger man, I would be betting for her purely based on her good looks. She smiled at Chen as he walked past, and I immediately knew they were both involved in whatever they'd concocted.

"Chen, sit, sit!" Toulouse said. Chen happily complied. He was dressed in a nice, clean white tux. He and Bethany seemed to make a formidable couple, in both score and in looks. "So, Chen, are you part of Bethany's alliance?"

"Yep!" he said happily. He had the same look as Bethany. It was confusing me, what was going on. I needed to get to the bottom of this.

"What's been your favorite part of coming to the Capitol?"

"Growing closer to my new friends, especially Bethany." He smiled, and it was fully undecipherable. Was he suggesting that they were more than friends? That growing closer also meant growing some rebellious plan? Or was he some innocent child who seemed to have a secret agenda?!

"How do you feel about getting an 8?" Toulouse inquired.

"Well, it shows my capabilities well. I'm excited to have such a good score and good allies, too."

Then his interview was also over, and my head felt like it had been spun in so many different directions. What was so wrong with District 7?

I had a feeling I would never find out.

 _..._

 _Holly Burnett, 16, District 8 Female Tribute of the 10th Hunger Games: District 8 Interviews_

I tried, to no avail, to keep my legs from shaking as I staggered out onto the stage. Chen gave me a reassuring smile, but I could not return it. All I could feel were the spotlights on me, and the eyes of millions locked on my every move. I could hear the sirens, feel the explosions rack the cement beneath me, touch the sticky red blood slowly spilling onto the dusty concrete that I laid on. I could barely make it to the chair, and everyone was looking at me strangely. I was bleeding! I was dying! Why weren't they helping me? Why would no one help me?! I grabbed tight to the arms of the chairs, and I was slingshotted back into the present, into reality, as Toulouse asked his first question.

"So, Holly, how do you feel about getting a 6?"

"Well..." I trailed off. I took a deep breath. "I'm fine with it. A 6 is decent. I can...make it work."

Toulouse nodded, realizing my unstable state. He grinned at me, calming me, and then asked his next question.

"What's life like back home?"

 _I almost died back home, in that alley, Toulouse. I almost bled to death because the wretched Capitol bombed my street._

"Okay. I live with my mom and sisters Carla and Leah. I have to work sometimes so we can all eat enough."

Toulouse nodded. This interview was boring, lackluster. There was nothing he could do to change that, and I made me want to cry.

"Any alliances?"

 _I am allied with three people I do not know. I do not trust them, yet they are all I have, and I must trust them. The only people I trust are my family. Goddamnit, I_ need _to see Mom, Leah, and Carla just one more time._

"Well, I'm in Bethany and Chen's alliance," I replied. The crowd perked up at this. Thank God I was in the alliance, or they might've just forgotten me entirely.

"Okay, Holly. Thank you!" he chorused. I sighed in relief, and I stood.

"I like your dress!" someone cried. It was a woman who'd been sitting next to the man who'd been screaming crazily during the District 4 interviews. She hoisted a sign with my name on it. I felt honored, and I smiled at her. I guess my light purple dress, knee length, with silver jewelry, was beautiful.

Burlap was after me. He was dressed in a suit made of...burlap. It looked sort of uncomfortable, and I felt bad for him. His interview was quicker than mine. He was more nervous (if possible) than I had, and he answered his questions too quickly.

"So, Burlap, how do you feel about your score of a 5?"

"It's not the best, but I can make it work," Burlap blurted. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Umm, okay. Any alliances?"

"All alone, Toulouse, all alone," he replied at an even faster speed. Toulouse seemed worried.

"How's life back home?"

"Well, it's just me, my mom, and my sisters, Flannelette and Chiffon."

"So, you're named after fabrics?" Toulouse had run out of questions with a minute left.

"Yep."

"Panem, that was Burlap Thomasson!" Toulouse cried. Burlap quickly darted off of the stage, swearing profusely.

"We both screwed up, didn't we?" I said as we walked to the back room and sat down together.

"Yep," was Burlap's only reply.

 _..._

 _Unity Carden, 28, Victor of the 1st Hunger Games, Resident of District 9: District 9 Interviews_

Andrea walked onto the stage, smiling, dressed in a pretty light pink dress embroidered with many flashy and sparkly gems and accents. Her blonde hair was done up in fancy curls, and she wore sparkly silver heels that she somehow managed to walk normally in. I had never been able to walk in heels. Then again, I had been nowhere near a normal girl during my childhood.

Andrea sat down across from Toulouse, smiling kindly. The interview began, and I bit my lip nervously. I'd learned, after 8 years of Mentoring, that the interviews were an essential piece of the Hunger Games.

"So, Andrea, any alliances?" Toulouse said, jumping right into the most exciting thing.

"Yep. I complete Chen, Bethany, and Holly's alliance," Andrea replied, grinning innocently, just like we'd planned. Her face has minimal makeup so she can be recognized in the arena, my idea. Beauty is not a key element in the Games, no matter what the Upper Districts think. The grit and skills are the real key elements of this dangerous "Game".

"How do you feel about getting a 6?"

"I think it fits my ability level fairly enough, and people have won with lower scores than 6," Andrea said.

"Exactly." It was sounding a lot like other interviews. This would not be memorable enough to get her many sponsors.

"How's life back home?"

"Um, well, sort of rough. My parents are divorced, and me and my sister Mia live with our father and step-mother Greta."

"Oh then. Thanks, Andrea!" he said as she left the stage. Calix strode onto the stage. He was dressed in a deep midnight blue suit, and his red hair was slicked back with a little bit too much grease. He sat down across from Toulouse, shaking his hand.

"So, Calix, let's address it right away. You have the lowest score, with a 3. What do you think about this?"

"I'm not necessarily worried. Look at the 2nd Games, with Uriah. And, anyway, I was really nervous during Private Sessions, and I wasn't using my head. I didn't do my best at all."

"So, what score do you think you should have received."

"A 10."

The crowd seemed bothered by this, but Toulouse pushed ahead.

"Bold, brave. Good. So, how's life back home?"

"Well, I'm an orphan. My family died in an apartment fire a bit ago."

"Well, the Capitol gives you its condolences. Any alliances?"

"Nope. I'm flying solo."

"Alright, then. That was District 9, folks!" Toulouse announced as Calix slunk off the stage. I just tried not to look to disappointed as I walked backstage to meet them and talk about how they'd done.

 _..._

 _Aenea Chariton, 29, Head Gamemaker and Capitol Resident: District 10 Interviews_

A 10? He should not have received a 10, not in any universe, not in any time, not unless higher numbers equaled terrible performance. _Then_ the insulting boy would deserve a 10. I jotted down a note to put him between Serephina Manchas and Cephas Gold on the pedestals around the Cornucopia.

An Avox appeared, her face as red as her shiny red hair from a long run here. I snatched the note from her hand. It was written on Presidential stationery. I quickly read it as Calix ambled off of the stage.

 _Dear Ms. Chariton,_

 _I must inform you that I find something peculiar about the District 7 pair, particularly Bethany Taylor, the female. Please see if she or the Chen fellow are related in anyway to the remaining rebels. If they are, I demand that you blow them sky high the moment our little Games begins._

 _Much thanks,_

 _President Gaius Snow_

I crumpled the note and flipped open my laptop, opening up the application on the computer that had every Panemian citizen stored in its database. I typed in the name _Bethany Taylor_ and hit enter. I clicked on the correct Bethany Taylor as the District 10 Female, Bianca, walked onto the stage. She was dressed in a blood red gown.

The program was taking a while to load its findings, so I listened in to Bianca's interview. She was one of my favorite tributes of this year. It had been saddening when the other Gamemakers had refused to give her a 9 during training. My underlings can sometimes outvote me if they have the absolute majority.

"So, Bianca, any alliances?"

"Well, it's just me and Caitlin. We're both strong and formidable and ferocious, hence Ferocity."

"I suspected it was you. So, how do you feel about receiving an 8?"

"It's a decent score for me, though I could have probably gotten a 9, possibly."

"You should have," I whispered to myself as the program began to load its final finds about Bethany Taylor.

"So, how's life in the 10th District of Panem?"

"I live with my parents and my siblings, Sofia, who is 19, and Diego, who is 12. We are pretty affluent." I chuckled at that. The Catalano's were one of the five richest families in the entire District.

"Okay! That was Bianca!" Toulouse said as she stood, gliding away, waving nicely to the crowd. Bison staggered out, shaking uncontrollably. I rolled my eyes at the sight of the boy and turned back to my computer. The results had loaded.

 _Bethany Marissa Taylor: Related to General Adam Taylor, leading rebel from District 7, and two colonels, Therese and Benjamin. All three of these relatives have been executed in the past 5 years._

I looked at the screen, incredulous. The girl had quite the rebel lineage. But she was a good tribute. I needed her to make these Games interesting. I cleared the search, shutting down my computer.

"Tell President Snow that there were no results," I told the Avox. She nodded and dashed off. I hoped I'd made a decent choice.

I turned back to Bison. He'd talked about how his score didn't matter, and how he lived back home with his father and sister Gazelle. Strange names, these District people sometimes give their children.

"Are you in an alliance?"

"I'm part of Catherine, Cameron, and Olivanna's," he said, grinning. So he had ended up being part of that crowd.

"So, we have 4 out 6 tributes down for the Young and Free alliance! That was Bison, and now we're going to District 11!" Toulouse exclaimed.

 _..._

 _Pumpkin Little, 19, Victor of the 7th Hunger Games, Resident of District 11: District 11 Interviews_

As short little Bison strode off the stage, my Hailea, similarly stunted and small, skipped over to her seat and sat down. She was dressed in a frumpy mint green dress that reminded me of a disproportionate cupcake with mint frosting. The little sparkly headband she wore looked like sprinkles. I had been unsure about this outfit, but it definitely made her look innocent and childish, which was what she was going for.

"So, Hailea, are you part of the Young and Free alliance?"

"Yes," Hailea said. "It's great to have strong friends that will protect me and each other."

"How do you feel about receiving a 6 in training?"

"It's honestly a little better than I thought I was going to get," Hailea said, pursing her lips. She was definitely innocent looking and acting. Did she even have to act that much? I suspected not. I hated how the Games destroyed the lives and consciences of little girls and boys like her. I'd lost my naivety and innocence at age 16 the second before that wretched gong rang, and I saw the boy next to me, Carver from 4, blow up. Suicide. That scene would and still does traumatize me.

"How's life back home?"

I knew her family was terrible. Her mother was depressed and distant, and her older sister Heidi was an abusive menace that should seriously be flogged her child mistreatment. She had no one. It was then that I realized she had to act pretty hard to keep up the innocent and naive act. She'd lost her innocence long ago, when her father died, her mother ignored her, and her older sister started beating and verbally abusing her.

"It's fine. I live with my mom and sister." She didn't elaborate, thankfully.

Hailea twirled off of the stage, and Theodore lumbered out after she'd made her cutesy exit. He sat down in the chair, and smiled half heartedly at Toulouse. Theo cracked his knuckles as the interview began.

"So, Theodore, any allies?"

"I'm with Christopher," he said. "He wanted to keep it a secret, but I think it's a good idea that we said it."

I could see Christopher glowering from backstage, and immediately I knew that Theo would be used against Christopher in some way, and Christopher knew it.

"So, how do you feel about receiving a 6?"

"It's literally average, but that's alright with me. My life's pretty average. Well it was, until I volunteered and then I got dressed up as a tomato plant." The crowd chuckled at that.

"So, why did you volunteer, Theo?"

"I volunteered to save my little brother Brett," he replied.

"And, Theo, one last thing. Speaking of your brother, how's family back home in 11?"

"Well, I live with my mom, my older cousin Trish, and my three younger siblings, Brett, Sandra, and Ria."

"Alright, then. That was District 11!" Theodore walked rather confidently off the stage. Christopher berated him the moment he reached backstage, and Theodore gulped, suddenly scared. I only heard a small phrase as I walked over to congratulate him on a finished interview, but it was enough to worry me.

"-iera's gonna kill you because you're my ally!" is what I heard. Theodore blurted profanities and apologies, knowing what I'd heard, but I just shook my head, pointing at him.

"It's me who should be sorry for you."

 _..._

 _Camillie Montegro, 15, District 12 Female Tribute of the 10th Hunger Games: District 12 Interviews_

I grinned as I strode out onto the stage, the blistering lights beating down on me. I was dressed a dark green dress, the color of the tree leaves that hung over the small garden where Wendie and I gardened. I bit my lip and tried to ignore the memories pouring in. Wendie's laugh as she dug her hands into the warm, overturned garden soil. The glistening red tomato fruits as I plucked them and placed them in the wicker basket. My family's full bellies while our neighbors, starving, wondered how we were fed. I pushed it down as I sat across from Toulouse, adjusting my tight forest green dress.

"So, Camillie, are you part of the Young and Free alliance?"

"Yes. I'm the ringleader of sorts for our little troupe," I replied, grinning widely. I heard my dozens of supporters cheer at those words.

"Well, good for you!" Toulouse exclaimed whole heartedly. "How do you feel about getting an 8? Only one tribute has scored higher than you, nabbing a 9. Besides that, all other tributes have scored a 7 or lower."

"I feel gracious," I said. "I did well enough to deserve it, and it makes me feel confident about my chances of returning home." _Returning to Wendie, to the garden, to the family I love, the love I need._

"So, how's life back home in District 12?"

"Well enough. My family manages not to starve. It's me, my mom and dad, and my little sister Wendie."

Toulouse nods. "What's been your favorite part of the Capitol so far?"

I almost say that nothing's been my favorite part, but I instead say, "The crazy outfits I've had to wear are pretty cool." A flat out lie, but the only thing I can conjure up at the moment.

Then I'm standing and walking away, and Walter is passing me, the last tribute to have an interview. The moment I disappear backstage, I let out a breath I've been holding. I'm done, at least for now.

"So, Walter, how do you feel about getting a 5?"

"It's not the bestest score," he said. I cringed at his grammar. He'd obviously missed a lot of school, since he worked in the mines to support his family. He'd probably started when they let kids go in, at age 11. I just shook my head. "It's not the best, I mean. But I'll do fine."

"Yeah," Toulouse replied. "So, any alliances?"

"Nope. I've decided to go without anyone. Alliances seem a little weird to me."

"How so?"

"Why would you make friends with people you have to end up killing?"

Toulouse nodded pensively, thinking about it for a moment, before asking him about home.

"Well, I live with my parents and my 8 siblings, named Carol, Humphrey, Patricia, Daniel, Jeannie, Gregory, Nathalie, and Erwin. My oldest brother, Zachary, died in the 4th Games."

"Sorry to hear that," Toulouse said. "Now, that's it for interviews! All 24 tributes have answered the questions, and hopefully you've figured out your favorites, Panem! Toulouse Edwards, signing out!"

And then it was over, and we all headed back to ours rooms. I was terribly scared, even though I'd scored an 8 and had 5 allies and skills.

Tomorrow, the Hunger Games would begin.

 _..._

A/N: WARNING: EXCITEMENT AND INSANITY AHEAD.

There are the interviews! I hope you enjoyed them. Sorry about Fracas' POV for District 4. I just lost all creativity for a while and had to write something crazy to pump the creative spirit back into me. Now, for the BLOODBATH! EEEEEEEK!

Okay, I'm sorry for freaking out about the Games beginning, but the Pre-Games tend to get tedious as time goes on. I have some fun twists and turns in store and I just can't wait to start killing off all of your tributes until only one is left! (Wow, I need to calm down, don't I?)

So, the usual questions and some new ones:

1\. Favorite POV?

2\. Least Favorite POV?

3\. Who do you think will be killed first in the bloodbath?

4\. Who do you think will be crowned Victor?

I hope you'll stay with me, because I have a (hopefully) very realistic and roughly 13 to 15 day long Games planned ahead for us, folks, so buckle your seat belts and prepare for the ride!

Here is a repeat of the sponsorship stuff. Please figure out your own points, and do not cheat and give yourself extra points where they are not warranted. Sponsor gifts will only be accepted through PM.

Sponsor System:

Each tribute, you get 5 sponsor points, and each review, follow, or favorite, you get 1. This is what items cost:

1 meal (Anything. Enough to keep a tribute alive for 1 day): 1 sponsor point

Water for 1 day: 1 sponsor point

Other Survival Gear (I'll decide in PM): 1-5 points

Weapons:

Arrow refills (12 arrows): 2 points

Daggers/Throwing knives/Awls/Ninja stars: 3 points

Maces/nunchucks/sickles/throwing axes/axe: 5 points

Swords/spears/bows/crossbows/tridents/whips/flail/scythes/warhammer/sledgehammer/other: 6 points

Medicine: 2-5 points, depending on seriousness injury/infection

Until next time, writing about the _**bloodbath,**_

-Tracee


	17. The Bloodbath: The Games Begin

**DISCLAIMER: From now forward, the Games are pretty much planned out. I love the feedback of everyone, and hearing what you all have to say is great. I just want everyone to know that if I kill your tribute, I do not hate you. In fact, all of you are awesome people! It's just a story, and I need to kill some tributes. I picked tributes that would logically fall or that I need to die for story purposes. Please don't hate me if your precious tribute dies (there may be an all-star Games in the far, far, FAR off future...) Also, please don't skip to the bottom to see the obituaries and skip reading the actual story. Now, please, enjoy the opening day of the Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!**

 **P.S. And yes, this came out quick. And yes, it is quite a few thousand words. I told you the bloodbath got me excited!**

...

 _ **Natalia General, 17, District 1 Female**_

 _"I had a feeling one of us would be coming home this year."_

I was breathing hard, visibly shaking. The past week, I'd been able to convince myself that it would all be okay, that I was just enjoying a lavish vacation in the Capitol with no endgame in sight. It was all just a Game to me. But now the real thing, the real effing _Hunger Games_ were barely an hour ahead, and I was strapped into a hovercraft. The engines purred and roared, but not as loud as my thumping heart. My palms began to sweat, and I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in deep, shaky breaths. I felt a hand on mine. Cephas. He grinned at me reassuringly.

"Calm down, Natalia. We're not even there yet."

I tried to smile back, but I just got woozier as I tried to form my wobbly mouth into a coherent shape. I just managed to nod sharply before I closed my eyes and thought of pleasing and calming moments.

Immediately Velvet Sanarra, my best friend, my...crush filled my head. That was it. I was falling in love with her. There was no point in hiding it now. I had to be true to myself, to what I felt, in these Games. I couldn't hide from who I was anymore. I loved Velvet. I loved her, I knew it deep down. But I already knew it would be unrequited. Velvet had a boyfriend. Velvet wasn't like me. _Stop it_ I thought to myself. _NOTHING is wrong with you._

I bit my cheek and started to nibble at my perfectly manicured nails, rendering them into gnawed down, uneven things. My teeth kept biting and snapping, and soon I was eating little bits of flesh too. I finally recoiled when I started bleeding. My heart was pounding faster all of the sudden because I realized that we'd landed. The thrusters and the engine quickly quieted down and died out completely, and then Peacekeepers strode over to each of us and removed our restraints. They escorted us, gloved hands clamped around our arms like vises, out of the hovercraft. Only 8 of us had been on that one; Cephas, Serephina, Andrea, Holly, Hailea, Chen, Bison, and myself. The hovercrafts had landed in a dark tunnel, deep underneath the ground, deep underneath the _arena_. The minimally fogged up windows of the hovercraft gave me a clue that the arena was warmer, humid.

The Peacekeepers took us each down individual, smaller tunnels, which wound deeper and deeper into the earth, into the ground. At one point, I thought we'd never stop walking. I thought the rest of my existence would be my own thumping heart and the clack of the Peacekeepers' boots on the cement as we walked forever down the secluded, dank tunnel. Then a door, marked _1F,_ appeared in front of us. The Peacekeepers unlocked it and gently herded me inside it, letting go of my forearms. I rubbed circulation back into them as the door slammed shut behind me.

My stylist, Geronimo Igorson, waited, arms folded over his massive muscled chest, standing next to a large glass tube. He handed me my arena uniform; tight black, athletic material shorts with silver ones on the outer sides, and a matching stretchy short sleeved shirt with silvery ones on the shoulders and on the very top of my back. I was right; we were heading into a warmer arena.

Geronimo had never been a man of many words, but he sighed as I slid on the black tennis shoes he handed me.

"Natalia, I am not good with words and saying goodbye. I've already lost 8 other girls. Only Esquiria has come back to me. Please, Natalia, try your hardest to make it back. You've grown on me, I think."

I smiled sadly at him, and his words lit a fire within me. People wanted, needed me back in their lives. I had to do this, I had to. So many people depended on me. I...I couldn't form coherent thoughts well any longer. A red light above the door turned green, and Geronimo sighed again, and gestured to the tube as the doors slid open.

"Get in. Goodbye, Natalia," he said, smiling faintly. I shook his hand firmly before stepping into the tube. I could feel the firm metal of my pedestal beneath me. Then I was rising, and Geronimo disappeared. I was alone in the tube for a moment, alone in the blackness, but I kept my calm. My breathing slowed, and adrenaline started to pump through my veins. I could do this. People needed me. I could do this.

Suddenly my head peeked out into warm sunlight, and my platform fully rose. 23 other tributes rose at the same time around a golden Cornucopia. I quickly looked both sides; Cephas was to my left, Bison to my right.

As the countdown began, my eyes flitted around the arena.

60, 59, 58, 56, 57, 55.

A giant shell of a building rose in the west of the arena, very close to some of the pedestals. It was gray and falling apart, but it must have once be magnificent, awe inspiring. It seemed quite like a Capitol building.

54, 53, 52, 51, 50.

But it couldn't be a Capitol building, because the Capitol wasn't surrounded by a glimmering ocean. It surrounded what must be the island on all sides, stretching out to infinity. I gulped.

49, 48, 47, 46, 45.

Pockets of water, inside cement pits, dotted the area near the decrepit building. There were three large ones and dozens of smaller ones. Why were the Gamemakers making water so easy to find? The wind blew their scent to me, and I was perplexed. I'd never smelled water like that before; it had to be dangerous.

44, 43, 42, 41, 40.

Small bars and buildings, proclaiming different types of food and then things I'd never heard of, like Tiki Drinks or Margaritas, also filled the area between the strange pools. This arena was surely different than most of the others.

39, 38, 37, 36, 35.

Jungle filled parts of the big island, not very thick, but you still couldn't see past it. I could hear strange noises, probably from devious mutts, echoing from the dark, humid jungle. It seemed dangerous, but some tributes would flock there for the cover.

34, 33, 32, 31, 30.

A lot of the island had sparse bushes and grasses on small sand dunes. They would be decent places to hide, too.

29, 28, 27, 26, 25.

I spotted several other, smaller islands wading distance from the sandy brown beach that ringed the entire island. The water between them was shallow and teal, almost inviting. I'd have to convince the others to take a dip after the bloodbath.

24, 23, 22, 21, 20.

I turned my attention away from my surroundings and to the Cornucopia and supplies. My eyes locked on a bundle of five throwing knives about 15 feet in front of me, leaning against a small medical kit and a tiny packet of jerky strips.

19, 18, 17, 16, 15.

I could see Bison freaking out next to me, his legs starting to shake. I poised myself, ready to spring forward and grab those blades. What if he fell off? What if his guts blanketed me the second the gong rang?

14, 13, 12, 11, 10.

The knives, who would I throw them at? Who?

9, 8, 7, 6, 5.

Bison regained his balance, but he seemed afraid. I was now afraid, too, but I focused on the knives. Those knives would be my salvation.

4, 3, 2, 1.

The gong rang, loud in my ears. I burst forward, my legs tearing across the sandy ground. Tributes jumped everywhere around me, but the only thing that mattered were those knives. I scooped them up, snatching one out of the smaller holster they were stored in. I grabbed it, and locked on the first tribute that wasn't an ally. I threw.

Bison's scream was heart wrenching as the knife landed in his abdomen. He staggered, falling to his knees, scrabbling at the blade. Before I knew what I was doing, I threw another, and another. Two mores, both in his chest, and he fell still, his blood pumping out onto the gritty sand. His ally, Hailea, knelt by his side, screeching, but I ignored her, looking for my allies.

Serephina had scooped up a bow and arrows, and she notched an arrow, aiming at a boy who was running from a katana wielding Dameon. She let go, and the arrow plunged into the boy's neck. He fell, his blood spraying across the sand. Dameon frowned at Serephina, asking why she'd stolen his kill.

I started to jog over to Serephina when I felt a sharp pain in my gut. I looked down to see a long, serrated dagger sticking from my back, the gory tip poking out of my stomach.

"That's what you get for killing my ally, you bitch," a girl snarled, and I squinted. As I fell off the girl's blade, I could swear it was Hailea. Hailea? Hailea?! The stumpy little girl from 11? I laughed, but then that hurt so badly that I started to scream. The noises my mouth was making were inhuman, animalistic, and goddamn Hailea was staring at me, tears streaming down her face. She brought her red dagger down on me again, and all was silent.

...

 _ **Theodore Anderson, 18, District 11 Male**_

 _"My life was forever changed at that moment {when I volunteered}."_

20 seconds. My eyes darted frantically from pile to pile of objects. I spotted a pitchfork, an actual pitchfork, leaning near the Cornucopia. I knew I had to have it. I could see Christopher, slowly shaking his head from six pedestals over, but I ignored him. I wanted that, I needed it.

10 seconds. Christopher gestured with his head to a direction where we'll meet up. He knew he coudln't dissuade me from going to get the pitchfork, but he wasn't nrisking sticking around at the bloodbath. I returned a quick nod.

5 seconds. I got ready to run, tensing my legs.

1 second. The gong rang, and I jumped forward. I heard a scream, and I swerved my head to see Bison, the boy from 10, go down in a spray of blood. I could see Christopher scoop up a pack and sprint away, over a sand dune, where he crouched down, waiting for me.

I neared the mouth of the Cornucopia. Serephina stood near by, and she had just fired an arrow into a boy, either Calix or Steale, I coudln't tell from this distance. She moved away from the Cornucopia, so I darted in, scooping up the pitchfork. It was heavy but reliable. I also grabbed a full pack next to it.

I heard anguished screams, followed by gurgling, animal like noises. Hailea, tears dripping down her face, stood above a dying Natalia, a bloody blade in her hands. I almost went and consoled my District partner as Natalia fell still, but I thought against it.

Andrea, the girl from 9, sprinted past, grabbing a med kit and two serrated daggers. I slashed at her with my pitchfork, and it raked across her left thigh. She screamed, evading the next swipe of my weapon, before running away to where her allies waited.

I turned to see Dameon hack off the head of a boy near me, only fifteen feet away from me. I had no idea who it was, but I was scared. I backed up, my eyes searching frantically for a place to run. I started to sprint, running in a zig zag. Most of the other tributes were long gone, it was just me and the Strong and Mighty alliance, who'd claimed the Cornucopia...

Kiera tackled me out of nowhere, cackling. I struggled beneath her as she stuck daggers through my palms and into the ground. I screamed, the sound inhuman. Only ten feet away lay the bloodied corpse of Natalia, but Kiera seemed happy that the girl, her supposed ally, was dead. Blood dribbled from my hands and onto the sand.

"Oh, poor, poor 11," she mused, grabbing the trident from where it was strapped to her back. She stood, brandishing her sharp weapon. My own weapon, my pitchfork, lay about a yard away, kicked away by this monster of a girl who was going to kill me.

"Goodbye, Theo," she said, her lip stuck out as she fake pouted. "Little old Chrissie isn't here to save you now, poor little baby Theo. Bye bye, baby."

My scream was blood curdling as she hurled her trident into me at point blank range. In my dying moments, I looked over to the dune where Christopher hid. I could see his face, and he was screaming my name. Kiera turned to him, and the last thing I heard was this:

"One down, one to go..." she murmured as the blackness engulfed me, drowning out the unimaginable pain.

 _..._

 ** _Andrea Matches, 16, District 9 Female_**

 _"So much for not having feelings during the Games."_

I limped away from the Cornucopia at a near run. That stupid hunk of muscle from 11, Theodore, had slashed open my thigh. When I reached the others and we settled down, I'd have to use my med kit to wrap it up. It was only then that I realized I'd lost the med kit and half of the pack's supplies in the fray. I growled, glancing back as I passed the pedestals. Kiera had pinned Theodore down, was toying with him. He was dead meat, a fish out of water, a sure goner.

Just as I passed the pedestals, an arrow whizzed past my head, nicking my ear. I swerved, and I saw Serephina swearing. I scooped the arrow out of the sand and snapped it in two. Now she had one less arrow. I turned back around and sprinted over a dune, towards the giant building.

Chen and Bethany were waiting several hundred yards past the pedestals, near one of the large pools. Both had packs, and Chen had gleaned an axe from a crate just outside the mouth of the Cornucopia. Holly was farther ahead, investigating the giant abandoned building that loomed above us.

"Hurry, coast is clear," Holly called. "You guys are in the open, come on over. I don't want Serephina sniping you out of nowhere."

She'd hunkered down in one of the small restaurant type things. The glass was tinted, and it was hard to see inside. A tattered sign on the top of the building read _Rosalia's Mexican Grill._ We pushed through the door, and found Holly sitting inside. Tables and chairs were thrown about everywhere, dusty and rusting. There was a small bar with a rusted sink and faucet, fridge, washing machine, cooler, oven, microwave, and multiple cabinets. It seemed nice enough, for the time being.

We sat down and emptied our packs, examining our supplies. I had only my sickle, a pack of crackers, and a pair of night goggles. The rest had fallen out on my run here, away from Theodore, who I was sure now lay dead. Chen had his axe, crackers, dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. He'd lucked out, getting one of the best packs in the Games. Bethany had two throwing knives, crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. And, finally, Holly had a dagger and a pack with jerky, rope, and crackers.

We ate a tiny dinner, preserving our foodstuffs. We found some canned foods in the kitchen area of the restaurant, and we ate some of those. Chen wrapped some of his bandages around my bloody thigh, and it felt a little bit better.

We awaited nightfall, unsure of how many people had died that day. I knew I'd seen Bison, Natalia, and the boy felled by Serephina's arrow. 3. Theodore was probably dead, there was no way you could escape Kiera when she had you pinned like that. 4 deaths. I'd guess there was probably one or two other deaths I hadn't seen. 4 to 6 was the usual amount of kills in a bloodbath, at least in the past nine years.

All I knew is that my alliance was complete and healthy, and that we were prepared for what laid ahead in these Games.

 _..._

 ** _Hailea Himalayan, 12, District 11 Female_**

 _"Heidi was smiling {as I walked onto the stage}."_

Tears rolled down my face as I slowly drew the serrated dagger out of Natalia's body. Her screams were inhuman, barbaric, unreal. I backed away slowly, watching as her body fully fell off of my dagger, slumping onto the sandy ground. She gave one last perturbing groan of pain, and then she was still, her limbs splayed around weirdly, her blood pouring onto the ground messily.

It looked like the body of Serena Malagite, a girl who had worked on the same melon farm me, my sister, and my mother worked and lived on back home in District 11. She'd been messing around with a tractor with a few friends, she tripped, and it pulverized her abdomen. Her body had been a crumpled, lifeless thing by the time her friends found her under the wheels. That was what Natalia was. Lifeless.

I'd killed someone.

The tears came a little faster, but I realized that I needed to get out of here. The rest of my alliance was waiting, waving me over frantically, on the other side of the Cornucopia. I sprinted towards them. A spear hurtled past at unimaginable speed, and I swerved just enough not to get skewered by it. Serephina. It sliced across my shoulder, and I stumbled, although I got back to my feet. My own blood was dripping down my arms now, mixing with the splatter of Natalia's blood on my hands. I picked up a loosely filled pack as I neared my allies. I swung it over my back and made it to my friends.

"Hail, you alright?" Camillie asked as we all jogged towards the beach.

"No," I said, grunting. "My shoulder hurts a lot."

"I think I got a medical kit in my pack," Camillie replied. "We can wrap it up when we get to our destination."

"Which is?" Cameron inquired. He held a metal cooking pot in his hands, and a throwing knife and an empty water bottle sat inside it.

"That island," Camillie said, pointing to an island about a quarter mile out. "We can wade all the way there, and, if it gets deep, I can swim you guys across."

"I can swim okay," Olivanna said. "I can help carry the others, too."

We reached the water, and we splashed into it. Fifteen minutes later, we'd successfully waded across the waist deep water (at least to me), and we were standing on the minuscule beach of the rather tiny island. Only Bison had perished in our alliance, and I knew Natalia was dead. I'd killed her. I had no idea who else had fallen at the bloodbath, though. My allies knew nothing else, either, only that Serephina had shot someone with her arrows and that Dameon had decapitated someone.

Halfway to the island, we'd heard a terrible scream, but it had only been one, so it was unlikely that the Strong and Mighty had already turned on each other or something like that. They'd probably found a straggler, and one of them had played with the poor tribute, slowly killing them. The thought just made me want to puke out the lavish breakfast I'd eaten before I boarded the hovercraft this morning.

We made a small fire, spreading out the multitude of supplies that we'd amassed around it. We'd move to the center of the island, where a good hundred jungle trees crowded to block out the smoke of the flames. We cooked some sort of root Cameron had dug up from the shore of the island; fennel, if I remembered it correctly from edible plants. It wasn't the best thing, but it was better than eating bugs.

Camillie took out her medical kit and wrapped up my shoulder wound the best she could. Then I went down to the beach and washed Natalia's blood and my own blood from my hands and forearms. I returned to camp, where the fennel was almost done being cooked. I opened my pack and examined its contents, letting them spill out across the sandy soil near the fire.

In my pack, I had rope, jerky, a big mesh net, and crackers. I ate two crackers with my portion of fennel. A lot of us had gotten empty water bottles, and Catherine had snagged some iodine. She collected water from a tiny little pond in the three water bottles our alliance had grabbed that sat on the other side of the island, and treated it with the iodine. In under an hour, we took small sips of the first one sating our thirst and draining it about halfway.

Catherine also had night goggles, and we set up a watch schedule, at least for tonight; Catherine would take the first shift, Camillie second, and Olivanna third. That left Cameron and I, the two most spooked by the bloodbath, to rest. We stomped out the fire, covering the coals in soil. Then I curled up, hugging myself tight, thinking myself to sleep.

I was awoken by a hissing sound, very close to my ear, and the frantic, pained shouts of Camillie, waking us all up.

 _..._

 ** _Steale Boeing, 15, District 6 Male_**

 _"Boys who tie knots do not win the Hunger Games."_

The second the cannon rang, I sprung forward. Serephina had been to my right, and Calix next to her. On my left had been Bethany and Emmer.

I dashed forward, scooping up everything that was in a pile in front of me; two throwing knives, a coil of rope, jerky strips, and an empty backpack. I shoved one of the knives, the coil of rope, and the jerky into the backpack before swinging it over my shoulder. The other throwing knife I kept in my hand in case I was attacked.

As I darted away from the bloodbath, I looked around. The boy from 10, named Bull or Bison or Oxen or Cow or something weird like that, lay with three knives sticking from his chest. The girl from 11 was approaching Natalia from behind, glaring at her, and Serephina had picked up a bow and was aiming at a boy being chased by Dameon. It was Calix. I sprinted away as I heard Calix's small scream. I gave one last look at him to see an arrow sticking through his neck, his body limp and in an unnatural position. Dameon kicked his body out of the way, and I recoiled. Why would you kick a corpse? Just step over it!

I began a brisk jog away from the bloodbath. I heard several other cries of pain, but I didn't look back, not once. I flipped the throwing knife from hand to hand, biting my lip. I was heading to the northern jungle part of the arena. No one else seemed to be heading my way. I would be alone in the jungle. It would just be me myself and I. I was nervous, because I could hear mutts making loud noises from within it. But I didn't trust myself to be able to hide in the dunes, and I didn't like the looks of the other islands or the hotel. And, anyway, no one would go in the jungle. It was the perfect place to hide.

I tried to keep my footfalls quiet as I slid into the jungle. Quickly the tress crowded around me, dripping with lush moss, flowers, and vines. Brightly pigmented parrots roosted on the trees far above. Maybe they were edible. Small insects buzzed around my head, and I swatted them away. Small mammals, almost like miniature deer, scurried through the undergrowth, shiny black eyes open in fear.

I hauled myself into the nearest tree, and barely in time.

The jaguar mutt leaped down from another tree, landing on one of the tiny deer. It squealed as the jaguar ripped into its hide and dragged it away. The jaguar and its now still prey disappeared in the gloom of the jungle, and all that was left were the parrot song and my own rapid breathing. I'd gotten lucky.

I pressed myself up against the trunk. I was about six feet off the ground, not high enough in my opinion. I agilely scrambled up another five feet before settling on a thicker, sturdier branch. I unzipped my pack and pulled out the jerky, my only food. I ate one of the four strips in silence, my eyes roving around, looking for danger. How did one sleep in the Hunger Games?

I guess I was lucky enough to have that worry. Several tributes didn't have to worry about getting sleep.

They were dead.

 _..._

 ** _Kiera Waters, 18, District 4 Female_**

 _"I had a strong blade and a witty mind. All I needed then was an icy heart."_

I drew my trident out of the now still Theodore. His dark brown skin was splattered with red, and I kept looking over at the sand dune where Christopher had been wailing. Serephina had almost went to go kill him, but I'd told her not to. Christopher was my kill. All mine.

I grabbed a rag from inside the Cornucopia and cleaned the gore off of my trident. We counted the bodies that lay, still and cold, in the sandy soil around the Cornucopia. 5. Bison, Calix, Burlap, Theodore, and Natalia. The others were pissed that Natalia had died. We'd gone down from 6 to 5. Not a large leap, at least not to me. Emmer kept spewing annoying statistics, Cephas and Dameon were grumbling and practicing with swords, and Serephina just sat at the mouth of the Cornucopia, musing something over in her mind. What would my family think of this?

I realized that they'd be mostly bothered by me.

I had been a sweet, caring girl at home. Very few people disliked me. I was kind, compassionate, a goody two shoes.

Now I'd become a goody two shoes gone rogue who tortured an innocent boy because he was friends with a guy who had a perverted crush on me.

I ambled over to Serephina and sat down beside her. She seemed to be having the same type of thoughts as me.

"I killed someone," we both murmured at the same time, and then our eyes met.

"Calix didn't stand a chance on this earth, but..." Serephina trailed off. "I'm getting over it now, I just need to think about it a bit. I know killing is what gets you home and all, so I'm going to keep doing it. But something inside me made me miss that arrow I shot at the girl from 9, not use the correct stance when I chucked the spear at little Hailea. They're both so...innocent. Calix was offensive, no one could deny that. But those two girls, they were torn out of their regular lives suddenly, and they're going to be killed or they may have to kill."

"Yeah," I muttered. She was bothered by killing innocents. I was bothered by the fact that I seemed to be losing my humanity, and that I delighted in sticking daggers through people's hands and slowly spearing them in the chest with my trident. I squeezed my eyes shut, and then I stood, leaving Serephina to her thoughts and to herself.

The boys had lit a fire, and they were cooking some type of seabird Cephas had managed to spear.

"You're eating seagull?! You do know that we have rations in the Cornucopia, right?"

"We don't want to start eating jerky yet. It gets old fast, Esquiria told me," Cephas said. The seagull was half roasted. I just recoiled and stalked into the Cornucopia. I brushed aside a pair of machetes, picking up a packet of dried fruit.

I grabbed my trident and walked out to the beach. Far behind me, I could hear the boys laughing, digging into their roasted seagull dinner. I shoved my trident into the sand and stuck my toes in the lukewarm, crystal clear water. It was calm and placid, this water. It reminded me of the water near my home.

I wasn't stupid. I knew there was a force field around the arena. But what if my home, District 4, was only a couple of miles away? What if I managed to escape, and I didn't have to play this wretched Game anymore? I crushed the thoughts. I'd seen tributes try to escape before.

Their mangled, electrocuted bodies were barely recognizable when they were shipped home in the oaken coffins.

I ripped open my dried fruit and ate it slowly. It wasn't delicious, but it was better than what I imagined roasted seagull tasted like. I drew patterns in the wet sand with my toes as I munched, watching them be quickly wiped away by the ocean every time the tide rolled in. I debated going in deeper, but I had a feeling some sea mutts would leap out and engulf me or something like that. I didn't feel like taking that risk yet.

I marched back to camp as the boys started to talk around the crackling campfire. Serephina had scooted over to the fire, and they prompted her to try the seagull. She took a bite and hesitantly swallowed it. I also ate a piece after Dameon annoyed me for a period of a half hour. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't delicious, either.

We all laid around the campfire for rest, and Cephas and Emmer took the first watch. I dug a small furrow in the ground and laid in it, soon falling asleep as I listened to the tide crash across the beach. I was only awakened by the sound of cannons, signaling those that had died.

 _..._

 ** _Aenea Chariton, 29, Head Gamemaker_**

 _"This Games would be interesting indeed."_

I was perched in the center of the Control Center, the main controls in reach. A dozen Gamemakers sat beneath me, around a holographic representation of the arena. I looked at the 19 remaining tributes, most of them together in clumps, in their little alliances. 5 had died today, an average number.

"Have the sun start setting," I commanded. A Gamemaker named Luisa quickly leaped into action, slowly pulling the holographic sun down until it dipped below the horizon. As I watched this agonizingly slow process, I went through those who had died.

Bison Seville, District 10 Male. Expected. I was surprised no other of his alliance members had died, although that sneaky District 11 girl had gotten her shoulder bloodied from Serephina's spear. And I thought Serephina was a perfect throw.

Calix Jackson, District 9 Male. Expected. It was delightful to watch the boy who "should have received a 10 in private training" fall, and arrow through his neck. Sadly, he died quickly. I had almost visited Serephina myself in her launch room to tell her to make his death slow and agonizing.

Natalia General, District 1 Female. NOT Expected. Natalia was an entertaining tribute to watch. I was sure she was going to go on a killing rampage before that little girl from 11 gutted her.

Burlap Thomasson, District 8 Male. Expected. He might have made it out of the bloodbath, but he stood little chance in winning. His death was delightful. Sadly, it was he, not Calix, who was decapitated.

Theodore Anderson, District 11 Male. Expected. The moment I saw him run all the way into the Cornucopia, I knew he was done for. I thought he was going to kill that girl from 9. That would have been splendid. It sure would have ignited a bigger fight.

The sun had fully set, and we waited a while longer. I spent my time making sure that the mutts I'd ordered to be engineered about a week ago were finished and on schedule. I needed those mutts pronto. The snake-seals, which I'd finished designing on the first day of training, were going to add a level of action to the Games so early on. I was excited, truly. It would be great to see my chosen targets fight off the mutts.

Soon, it was five minutes before midnight, and I gave the command.

"Fire the cannons."

Ezekiel, another Gamemaker, hit a button, and the five cannons fired. They he played the anthem, dragging the seal into the sky. The faces of the dead paraded across the sky in numerical order. Natalia. Burlap. Calix. Bison. Theodore. Then I stood as Theodore's face faded from the sky.

"Work's done for today. Luisa, Ezekiel, Gaela, and myself are on night duty. The rest of you, go home and relax."

Two dozen Gamemakers, Avoxes, and other workers stood and left the building, talking about who'd died the how the betting system would be altered. I just leaned back into my chair, watching avidly for a moment at my night wreathed arena. Then the clock hit midnight, and my grin widened.

"Send in Mutt SSV1 onto the western beach and island IV," I shouted. Luisa, Gaela, and Ezekiel swiftly went to work to execute my order, and I leaned back into my chair, smiling. The clamor that was about to ensue would be deliciously interesting.

 _..._

 ** _Walter Inlaen, 17, District 12 Male_**

 _"Why make friends with people you'd have to kill?_

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Five dead. I sighed, resting my head against the palm tree that swayed behind me. Who had died? I had no idea.

I stood, starting to pace, as the anthem played and the Capitol's seal shone at the apex of the arena's ceiling. I grabbed my silvery spear from where it rested in the sand, and I tossed it from hand to hand, drawing shapes in the sand nervously. Who had died? Who had died? The anthem ended, and I turned my head to the sky to find out the answer to my insistent question. I read them silently.

 _Natalia General, District 1 Female_

 _Burlap Thomasson, District 8 Male_

 _Calix Jackson, District 9 Male_

 _Bison Seville, District 10 Male_

 _Theodore Anderson, District 11 Male_

Theodore's face left the sky, and I sighed, shivering. The island had cooled down as night had arrived. The sand was still warm, though, so I lay down in it, warming myself up.

A few minutes past, and then there was a flash of light, and a large hole opened up in the sand one hundred feet away. I quickly jumped to my feet, swinging my pack over my shoulder and grabbing my spear. Then I ran as something emerged from the hole.

All I heard were nasty hisses, and the scrape of scales of the sand, but I didn't look back. All I knew was that I needed to run to save my life.

 _..._

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medical kit. At the Cornucopia_

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 11 arrows, pack full of food and water, and a medical kit. At the Cornucopia._

 _Dameon Xaine: Katana, a dagger, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and iodine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Cameron Spark: Throwing knife, empty water bottle, and cooking pot. (Originally grabbed by Catherine). At smaller island IV._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle, jerky strips, night goggles, and iodine. At smaller island IV._

 _Christopher Tidesworth: Pack with strips of jerky, night goggles, empty water bottle, and a picture book. In the sand dunes southeast of the Cornucopia._

 _Kiera Waters: Trident, two daggers, medical kit, and iodine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Emmer Schuliare: Mace, nunchucks, medical kit, empty water bottle, jerky strips, and iodine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, crackers, and iodine. In the resort hotel, third floor, room 127._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, two throwing knives, and jerky strips. In the northern jungle._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium: Dagger, jerky strips, crackers, and empty water bottle. (Originally grabbed by Camillie). At smaller island IV._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe,_ _Pack with crackers, dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Bethany Taylor: Pack with two throwing knives, crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with jerky, rope, and crackers. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Andrea Matches: Sickle, Pack with crackers and night goggles. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Bianca Catalano: Six throwing knives, Pack with jerky, iodine, and empty water bottle. In the resort hotel, third floor, room 127._

 _Hailea Himalayan: Dagger, Pack with rope, jerky, net, and crackers. At smaller island IV._

 _Walter Inlaen: Spear, Pack with bandages, jerky, and rope. On the western beach._

 _Camillie Montegro: Sickle, two daggers, Pack with jerky, crackers, dried fruit, medical kit, rope, and empty water bottle. At smaller island IV._

 _..._

 **A/N: So there's the bloodbath! I hope you aren't just scrolling down just here to read the obituaries and skipping the rest, but if you are, oh well. Enjoy them. It's so hard to let go of 5 tributes, and I couldn't make myself do a bigger bloodbath because I love so many of these tributes.**

 **OBITUARIES**

 **24th: Bison Seville, District 10 Male, 13 - Hit with throwing knives in the abdomen and chest by Natalia General, District 1 Female**

 **Bison, Bison, Bison. You were my own bloodbath creation, yet some people took a liking to you. You weren't anything special to write, but you were a nice character all the same. I loved your name and I'm so sorry you never got to pick out your own horse to ride on the ranch! My condolences to Mr. Seville and Gazelle. We all knew you would probably die here, or at least soon after the bloodbath. You weren't a real contender. I'm sorry you had to be the first kill, but someone has to be, and it was you. Rest in peace, my friend, and find your very own horse.**

 **23rd: Calix Jackson, District 9 Male, 14 - Impaled on an arrow by Serephina Manchas, District 2 Female**

 **Calix, you were a goner, and we all knew it. His form initially said to give him a 10 and make him a Career and all, but I couldn't see how a 14 year old would be able to be a higher caliber Career. Also, he was submitted to several other fics, and I vowed to take out all repeat tributes I knew about in the bloodbath. You weren't anything special, and I'm sorry you had to puke during the Gauntlet, that was definitely a nasty experience. At least you got killed nice and swift, with an arrow to the neck. Not everyone gets so lucky. And not many will miss you, as you're a fugitive orphan on the streets. I'm sorry, writerfromheaven, if you've been reading. He just wasn't a tribute that could foreseeably make it past the bloodbath, not to mention win it all.**

 **22nd: Natalia General, District 1 Female, 17 - Stabbed with dagger in the back by Hailea Himalayan, District 11 Female**

 **Natalia, dear Natalia! I loved you, admittedly, so much. You were one of the easiest tributes to write, with your possible lesbian relationship with Velvet to your membership in the Strong and Mighty alliance. But your form was so empty and piecemeal that you were basically my own tribute. The only things I could salvage from your submission form were your name, you twin sisters' names, and that you were from District 1. And, dear girl, you were also submitted to several other SYOTs, so I had to take you out like I vowed to myself I would. You were a killer character, but you were basically mine. Revenge isn't so sweet to Hailea, I guess. I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. General as well as your sisters Nadia and Alice and designer Geronimo. I'm sorry you had to see her go. Guest submitter, if you're reading, sorry that she was killed. I really did like her.**

 **21st: Burlap Thomasson, District 8 Male, 16 - Beheaded with a sword by Dameon Xaine, District 2 Male**

 **Burlap, you were my first bloodbath I made for this story. You were admittedly boring and tedious to write, and you didn't really have a concrete character until recent chapters. Being mine and all, and not having any part at all in the plot and tensions of the story, I just couldn't let you live. It would be unfair to other tributes and readers. I'm sorry you couldn't make it back to your mother and sisters (I'm so sorry, Flannelette and Chiffon! Name one of your sons Burlap!). And I'm sorry for the bloody death, but Dameon has been building up his anger for this day, so I felt that a kill of his would be vicious and bloody.**

 **20th: Theodore Anderson, District 11 Male, 18 - Stabbed in the back with trident by Kiera Waters, District 4 Female**

 **Theodore, you are the only tribute I killed that wasn't a repeat or a bloodbath. I'm sorry for that, but you were basically a Katniss Everdeen clone, except male and from District 11. You were okay to write, not the best, but you definitely weren't the worst. I could see Theodore sticking it out a little bit with Christopher, but his death was more beneficial to the plot than him surviving in many ways, so I did you in. I'm sorry to Mrs. Anderson, Trish, Brett, Sandra, and Ria for his death. Hopefully you can manage to put food on the table without him, and, if not, I secretly use my author powers to send you a lifetime's worth of food. I'm sorry, ahungergamesfan07, if you're still reading, that Theo died. He will be missed.**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold -**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

 **Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson**

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson**

 **Cameron Spark -**

 **Catherine Spark -**

 **Christopher Tidesworth -**

 **Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson**

 **Emmer Schuliare -**

 **Caitlin Theardie -**

 **Steale Boeing -**

 **Olivanna Sanatorium -**

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

 **Bethany Taylor -**

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

 **Andrea Matches -**

Bison Seville -

 **Bianca Catalano -**

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

 **Walter Inlaen -**

 **Camillie Montegro -**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **Now that obituaries, remaining tributes, and kill list are over with, let's get down to the questions!**

 **1\. Favorite POV**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV**

 **3\. Most surprising death? (I think we all know the answer for this one already...)**

 **4\. Any surprise bloodbath survivors?**

 **5\. Most surprising killer?**

 **6\. Who do you think will die next?**

 **I'm finding that I'm rethinking the entire plan I've set out, and I have a feeling I'll end up deviating from my original story plan a lot. Again, sorry if your tribute was killed in the bloodbath. I think five is a good number of deaths for an earlier Games. If you're surprised by any survivors, trust me, they're probably being used for something more impactful than cannon fodder.**

 **Thanks for reading, faithful readers. Put in an encouraging review, and expect Day 2 to be up as soon as I can get it written!  
**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	18. Day 2: Venom and Blood

**A/N: And Day 2 has arrived. Sorry for the cliffhanger-ish ending of the Bloodbath chapter, you'll now figure out what happens to Walter and the Young and Free alliance! Another very quick update (I just have WAY too much free time, I guess), but it is not as long as the previous chapter. Enjoy!**

...

 _ **Catherine Spark, 12, District 3 Female**_

 _"I was no longer Catherine Spark. I was becoming someone new entirely."_

I was startled awake by the heart wrenching screams.

I quickly grabbed my sickle from where it was laying next to me, jumping to my feet. Camillie crashed into the campsite, blood pouring down her arm, tears dripping down her face.

"RUN!" she screamed as the trees nearby quaked. I could hear a loud hissing noise, and the creak of trees being pushed over my some enormous force.

I shook Cameron awake, yelling in his ear. Camillie did the same with Olivanna, hauling her to her feet. All four of us backed up. Camillie was staggering, the blood loss taking it toll on her. I counted our heads. Camillie, Cameron, Olivanna, and myself. Hailea. Dammit.

Suddenly the creature that had wounded Camillie stampeded into the clearing. It had the sleek brown body and head of a seal, but it had reptilian legs and a reptilian tail, and a forked snake tongue. It hissed and knelt beside Hailea, almost grinning, ready to take a bite out of our friend. She slowly started to awaken as the mutt opened its jaws wide, ready to swallow her.

There was a flash, and Cameron had chucked his throwing knife. It barely hit the mutt, scraping across its eye. Hailea was fully awake, and Cameron's thrown knife was enough of a distraction for her to scramble to her feet.

"Back to the mainland," Camillie gasped. "It will catch us if we stay here."

The mutt seemed to be getting over its tattered eyeball, and it growled at us, starting to circle us. We all broke into a feverish sprint, breaking through the jungle and onto the beach. Camillie swung Hailea onto her back, while Olivanna helped Cameron and I into the water. We slogged through the water as fast as we could as the snake-seal mutt broke through the trees and onto the beach, pawing at the sand.

As we neared the northern shore of the main island, we heard a loud cannon.

BOOM!

I could only guess that someone else had been attacked and killed by the same type of mutt. Hopefully the cannon belonged to someone like Serephina, Cephas, Kiera, or Caitlin. They were some of the biggest competition our alliance had. We had numbers, but our scores ranged from 5 to 8. We did not have a range of 9-11 or 8-9 like Strong and Mighty or Ferocity. We needed some of them to be taken out for any of us to have a legitimate chance at claiming the title of Victor.

We clambered onto the beach. The snake-seal thing was floundering in the ocean, and I could see a black, swirling hole opening in the waves nearby. The Gamemakers were calling it back. It had done enough damage. It finally dived into the abyss and disappeared, hopefully for good.

Camillie collapsed on the beach, but I urged everyone to head to the jungle, which was only a hundred feet ahead. We made it into the cover of the thick, leafy trees, and then I knelt by Camillie's side an examined the wound.

It was a bloody and torn mess of flesh, and there wasn't much I could do but apply a few bandages I'd been carrying to it. Most of our supplies were back at the island. We needed to head back there, but Camillie wasn't in such a condition to do so.

"Olivanna, Cam, do you guys think you can go grab some food and medical stuff from the island?" I asked.

"Sure," Olivanna said. Cameron seemed bothered by my ordering him around, but I couldn't let Olivanna go alone, and he was the most able besides myself. He and Olivanna darted out onto the beach, and Olivanna dragged him over to the island.

Hailea was breathing hard, leaning against a tree, her own shoulder bandaged up tight, speckled with red. Suddenly we heard two tinkling noises, and we all looked up at the same exact time. Our faces broke out into grins. Sponsor gifts.

The two silvery capsules attached to the mesh parachutes were gifts we sorely needed. One was for Hailea, the other for Camillie. I cracked open Camillie's. It was a small jar of medicine. I read the note out loud.

 _To fix you up - Solomon_

Camillie smiled, and I peeled back her bandages. She winced, but her pained expression quickly morphed into one of relief as I spread the oily slave across her wound. Immediately it looked cleaner and healthier. I let the wound breathe, and I walked over to Hailea.

She'd been gifted a razor sharp throwing knife. Her note read this:

 _Good kill, Hail. Here's another knife to take out the next one - Pumpkin_

She didn't really need the knife, since she had her dagger, but she liked the sentiment and the security of having and extra weapon.

Cameron and Olivanna appeared several minutes later with about a quarter of our supplies. I wrapped up Camillie's healing wound, and I used the rest of the medicine to heal Hailea's shoulder, and then I applied fresh bandages. We were okay. We were okay.

We waited in the dark jungle until the sun began to rise. We had been extremely lucky that Camillie had warned us early enough; 5 seconds later, and Hailea and possibly others of us would not be standing and breathing. Someone else had not gotten as lucky as we had. I leaned against a tree, smiling as the sun glimmered over the horizon, bathing the arena in warm, golden light. I breathed in the earthy scent of the jungle. Around us, the animals of the forest began to awaken. The sing song of colorful parrots filled out ears, and I saw several furry, orange-gold monkeys, no bigger than my hand, swing through the branches of a nearby tree. This arena was sickeningly beautiful.

I was honestly surprised we'd received sponsor gifts. Without that medicine, Camillie would've been dead in hours. We'd have gone down from 6 to 4 in only two days. I knew we'd basically just gotten lucky, but it felt good to still have a big group.

As we waded back to our camp island, safe, healed, and together, I knew one thing.

We were survivors.

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, District 2 Female**_

 _"I wanted to be remembered."_

I stood twenty feet from the Cornucopia, a spear in one hand, my bow in the other. My quiver, holding ten arrows, was slung low across my back. The snapping, salty breeze, rolling off of the ocean, blew my hair out behind me. I was on the first watch; Cephas and Emmer had decided they were too tired after only a couple of hours, so I'd let them off of the hook and took watch.

It was just past midnight. The anthem had finished and the faces had slipped across the sky. I hadn't bothered to look up; the five carcasses of Natalia, Calix, Burlap, Bison, and Theodore that lay nearby were enough confirmation to me for who had died. Finally, the silvery lights that made up the pictures of the dead faded, and the next day began.

It had only been about five to ten minutes since the pictures when I heard it. Yelling, originating from the beach. I set down my spear and notched an arrow in my bow, slowly sneaking down the gradual incline, down to the beach. Soon my boots were covered in little grains of sand, but I ignored it as I stared, mouth wide open, at the sight a quarter mile down the beach.

A boy, either Christopher, Walter, or Chen, sprinted down the beach, crying out for help. And behind him...behind him...was a giant creature with silky brown skin and a seal-like head. It had large, scaly green legs and sharp, curved talons that dug deep rifts into the sand. It had a spiked reptilian tail, and a long forked tongue protruded from its mouth. Walter, I was sure it was Walter now, barely stayed ahead of it.

"GUYS!" I screamed, backing away off of the beach. I turned, sprinting back towards camp. "GUYS, WAKE UP!"

Kiera was the first to wake up, groggy and ticked off. Then she saw the pure look of fear in my eyes, and she started shaking Emmer awake. I grabbed Cephas and Dameon's shoulders and shook them.

"There's a mutt," I hissed loudly, shaking them. "Come on, come on!"

Walter yells turned into inhuman screeches of pain, and I did not dare look out at the beach to see what was happening to him. Kiera and Emmer were on their feet, toting a trident and a mace respectively. Cephas and Dameon were still standing, grabbing their swords, when the menace appeared in sight.

A piece of Walter's flesh dangled from its mouth. I could see his wasted body, down by the shore line, the water lapping against his tattered body. But he was still, horribly, alive, even though his body was in no way any longer human.

The monster loped up the beach, attacking straight away. I fired an arrow at it. It dug into its side, but it seemed to have little effect of the creature as it barreled towards Kiera. I yelled for her to move, but it was too late.

Its jaws wrapped around her hips, tearing large gashes into her sides. She screamed, slashing at its head with her trident. She left a set of decently deep gashes on its forehead, but the creature kept its jaws locked around her midriff, raking its teeth around and drawing exponential amounts of blood. I swept up my spear and threw it as hard as I could. It pierced the skull of the creature. It lifted its mouth off of Kiera to let loose and ear shattering howl. It staggered about fifty feet away, then collapsing as it died. We all rushed to Kiera's side.

Her abdomen was a bloody mess. Emmer dashed off to the Cornucopia and returned with a large roll of gauze and some sort of spray. He sprayed the liquid on her wound, and she hissed in pain. Disinfectant, it seemed. He then wrapped half of the roll of gauze around her abdomen, and she moaned with pain during the entire process. She lay there on the bloody sand, unable to move.

"Thanks," she managed to rasp after Emmer had finished.

"Walter's cannon hasn't fired," I murmured, pointing to his tattered body on the shoreline. Cephas quickly jogged over to Walter and hacked down with his blade, mercifully ending poor Walter's life.

BOOM!

Cephas cleaned his blade in the ocean and then came back over. The hovercraft appeared and locked its metal jaws around his misshapen form. I would not want to be part of the family that would have to see his corpse like that.

We turned our attention back to Kiera. She was breathing heavily, and she had her eyes squeezed shut. The hefty amounts of snow white gauze wrapped around her abdomen were swiftly becoming blood red. She squeezed her eyes shut from the pain.

"Here's some painkillers, the only ones we have," Emmer muttered. He'd been searching the Cornucopia for them. He propped open Kiera's mouth and dropped the two slender white painkiller pills into her mouth. He poured water down her mouth and had her swallow.

"That should sedate her for now," Emmer said. He was right. Within ten minutes the agonizing look of pain on her face had faded somewhat, and she drifted off to sleep.

"How serious is it?" Dameon asked, folding his arms.

"Pretty serious. If we don't get a good deal of sponsor gifts to fix her up, she'll die within 48 hours," Emmer replied somberly.

We all looked at her. She had one groggy eye open. She'd heard us.

"B-bring Christopher's corpse to me, before I die," Kiera hissed, her face contorted from the effort. "I need to see his...dead body."

"Shhh, rest up Kiera," Emmer said, comforting her. "You'll be fine."

"We all know I'm dying," Kiera growled. "And I've been a horrendous murderer, so I doubt I'll be getting many friendly sponsor gifts. So, if you would, bring his dead corpse to me."

Kiera laid back and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep, leaving us with the predicament of poaching Christopher to meet her dying wish.

"He could be anywhere by now, and we'll probably spring a Gamemaker's trap or wander blindly into the path of another tribute who could take us down," Dameon said. "I'm all for fighting, but a wild goose chase around the arena for just one tribute, in under 48 hours, is not smart."

We all agreed, but I felt bad for Kiera. Her mouth was curled in a frown as she slept, and her breathing was arduous. Her pain was deep set. Not even the painkillers could take away its sting. I knelt by her side as the boys assembled a meager breakfast. The sun was rising, and it bathed her tortured body in warm, golden light. I just watched her rest, fidgeting in her sleep, her mouth moving in shapes I could not read.

For the rest of the day, we stayed at camp, talking quietly and resting up. Kiera woke up a couple of hours after noon. She tried to stand, but her reaction was immediate pain. She quietly cursed, and asked Emmer if he had more painkillers. He sadly shook his head.

"Did you kill him? Christopher?" Kiera asked, tired and weak. Emmer was now worried that she wouldn't make it through the night.

"Yeah, we killed him, but the hovercraft took his corpse before we could," I easily lied. We hadn't planned on commenting on this, but the boys did not make any objection. Kiera just smiled, at ease, and she rested back in the sand.

We checked her vital signs periodically. Emmer said, every single time, that she was still alive but her body was slowing down. We were basically waiting for her death. It was agonizing to watch, and agonizing to just sit there when we could be out hunting, ending these Games quicker. But we didn't like the idea of leaving her alone with only one person, and we didn't feel comfortable splitting right in half. Also, I had a feeling that our main reason for staying was to comfort our friend while she died. No one wants to die alone. No one.

The sun began to set, and she still remained alive. Her pulse was getting slower and slower, her face paler and paler, her bandages redder and redder. She was dying, and she knew it.

The anthem played, and the seal shone in the sky. We tried to shield her from it, but it was too late. Walter's face shone through the sky. Only his face. If Christopher was really dead, his face would've been up there. Despite our best efforts, she managed to see the lack of Christopher's face in the sky.

"You lied," she groaned. "Please, kill him. Now. I just want to know he's dead. I can't let him die before me. Please."

Following her desperate pleas, Cephas, Emmer, and I hesitantly left Dameon to guard her. We trekked out into the night, holding flashlights and our weapons. I closed my eyes tight. I really hoped this wasn't a big mistake. We were leaving Dameon and Kiera more exposed than necessary. But the darkness was dangerous. If we were going to hunt down and kill Christopher to appease Kiera, we needed to have numbers.

We headed towards the sand dunes where he'd last been spotted, and I could only keep thinking one thing.

This is a terrible idea.

...

 _ **Steale Boeing, 16, District 6 Male**_

 _"Why would you kick a corpse?"_

The sunlight, slanting through the thick, waxy leaves of the tree I slept in, warmed my skin, waking me from my slumber.

I'd awoken soon after the faces of Natalia, Burlap, Calix, Bison, and Theodore had paraded through the sky to hear a loud cannon. Far off, I had also heard the chatter of several younger voices. I thought I even heard Olivanna's voice for a moment. But I dismissed it as jabberjays or something like that messing around with my head, and I instead made myself fall back to sleep.

My stomach grumbled angrily, protesting the lack of food it had received. I forced myself to ignore the delicious looking jerky in my pack and go a little longer without food. I watched the parrots flit from tree to tree, and I saw one emerald colored butterfly lazily float from orchid to orchid near the ground. The jungle was calming, and there wasn't anything alarming.

I eventually caved around noon and nibbled down a small bit of one of the strips of jerky. I was also thirsty, so I climbed up the tree. Sure enough, clean, fresh rainwater sat in small pools in the cup-like leaves of one of the plants that grew on the tree. I sipped it slowly until I'd mostly drained the pool. This tree also had some small fruits I recognized from the rich people's market back home in 6. They were called mangoes. My one friend, Rodney, had rich parents. The one time I'd gone over for dinner, his family had the oddest assortment of fruits. They were called star fruits, papayas, cantaloupe, and mangoes. The mango had been my favorite by far, so I delighted in snatching the mangoes and digging my teeth into their ripe fruit.

Full, I placed two mangoes in my pack, just in case. I really wished I had some sort of container to collect the water in, but I didn't, and I doubted I'd be receiving any sponsor gifts, so I relaxed and leaned back against the tree trunk. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.

Suddenly I heard a soft tinkling sound, and I looked up. A parachute, a silvery parachute, descended down to _me._ I grabbed it with eager hands and ripped open the capsule.

Inside was a full water bottle that could hold about a pint of water. I looked up thankfully to the sky, knowing cameras were pointed at me right now. I read the note to myself several times, feeling comforted that I wasn't utterly alone.

 _Here's some water. Bottle some more when you get the chance. Good job surviving so far, Steale. - Calla_

I slid down from my tree perch, deciding to stretch my sore legs. I watched the parrots fly by and a lime green snake wrap its lithe body around the form of a bright red toad. Mosquitoes buzzed around my head, but I warded them off. I almost missed the frightened little deer scampering by, but it was too late. I met again with Mr. Jaguar. He hissed at me, revealing pearly white canines. I acted quick, ripping open my backpack and throwing my remaining jerky his way. He gobbled it up and slowly retreated into a hollowed out log where he must make his den. I kept that in mind. If anyone headed past that log, they'd be attacked...

I walked back to my tree and returned to my perch, nibbling on some mango and drinking a few sips of water. Day slowly faded to night, and I saw Walter's face shine on the canopy of waxy leaves above my head. So that was who had died. I curled up against the trunk of the tree and drifted off to sleep, at peace with how things were.

...

 ** _Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female_**

 _"We were Victor-less. I wanted to make that change."_

BOOM!

I shot up immediately, eyes open wide.

"Bianca?!" I grunted. "Bianca!"

"I'm here, I'm here. It was someone out there," Bianca told me, kneeling by my side. "We're safe. We're safe. Go back to bed, I got the rest of watch."

I hesitantly laid back down on the motheaten bed. We had locked ourselves in one of the larger rooms on the third floor of what had to be a hotel. It looked a lot like the hotels my Escort had pointed out to me while we were walking to the Tribute Center. Thoughts about my escort brought up thoughts about my wretched Mentor Askia, and I just growled and shoved my face into the lumpy pillow.

I awoke several hours later when Bianca opened the blinds and the harsh sunlight blasted into the room. I growled, rubbing my eyes as I groggily slid out of bed. I glared at Bianca; the sun had just barely risen. She'd said she would let me sleep till noon, but here I was, around dawn, being awoken. I narrowed my eyes when she just continued to wave me over to the window. This better be good.

"Look up there," Bianca said, pointing to something stuck in the fire escape three feet above the window. I leaned out, and I gasped, my face breaking out into a smile. I excitedly looked at Bianca, and she gave me a thumbs up.

I stretched out as far as I could without falling out of the window, and my fingers wrapped around the sponsor gifts that were most definitely mine; a silvery, bendable bow, and a quiver stocked with twelve sleek, razor sharp arrows. I pulled them back inside the room, grinning ear to ear.

"We have a chance now, Bianca," I murmured. The look on her face plainly said _No, YOU have a chance_ , but I ignored it. She had throwing knives, the things she used. The measly dagger I'd scavenged from the bloodbath would not have served me well. But this, this bow and its 12 arrow companions would be my utter salvation in these Games.

We sat there for a while, and I reread my sponsor note several times. It had been signed by my Escort, Soprana, so I had to guess Askia was being a little prideful prick and had refused to handle my sponsorship. I could understand that; I had called him quite a few choice words before I boarded the hovercraft to the arena.

 _Doing well so far, dear. Here's your choice weapon. Use it wisely. - Soprana_

I knew she meant that she was out of sponsorship money, at least for the time being. A bow and 12 arrows was one of the most expensive gifts I'd ever seen in the Games. But why would Soprana be sending me these now? This caused me to become curious. She wouldn't send in this bow unless I needed it soon or I could use it to my great advantage. Soprana might not be the smartest woman, but she was Hunger Games-smart and had watched 9 other Hunger Games. If I received a weapon like this from her, it was because it could be put to great use.

"I'm going to the roof," I told Bianca. "I have a feeling there's a reason I was sent this."

Bianca nodded. "Makes sense. I'm coming with."

We trekked up the other 9 flights of stairs until we reached the top floor, the 12th floor. We climbed up a tenth set of stairs, and we reached a flimsy metal door. A few hard kicks from Bianca, and the door burst open, revealing the roof. It was just a flat yet stable looking slab of cement.

"Let's be careful and quick," Bianca said. "I wouldn't put it past the Gamemakers to collapse the roof just to mess with us. A story fall wouldn't be too terrible, but we'd be pretty bruised up."

I agreed, so we swiftly darted out to the edge of the building. The arena spread out around us, and we could see everything. Our resort building, the tallest thing by far in the arena, was smack dab in the middle. Flocked around it for about a quarter mile or so were the dozens of restaurants and swimming pools, which I recognized from the recreation center back in 5. On the eastern side of the island, past the eastern pools and restaurants, were about another quarter mile of sand dunes and sparse bushes before the thin strip of sandy brown that was the beach arrived. On the other side, past the western pools and restaurants, was the Cornucopia, sitting on the sandy clearing. People were milling around down there, but I ignored them for the time being. Past the Cornucopia and the abandoned ring of pedestals was the beach. To the north and south, for about half a mile, there was extensive sand dunes, clumps of tall grasses and thorny bushes blanketing most of the dunes. Stretching down for a mile or so in both the north and south was the thick jungle. Flocks of colorful parrots could be seen skimming the canopies, and I wondered what else inhabited the steamy jungle. The beach continued around the entire island, remaining a consistent width. Three small islands clustered to the north of the island, about a fifteen minutes' wade from the beach. To the south, only one island was set off of the coast, although it was minimally larger than its northern brethren. Everything else was lukewarm, inviting teal ocean which sparkled and dazzled under the large, shimmering sun. It was a magnificent sight.

"Look at the Cornucopia," Bianca said. "Is someone dead?"

We peered closer, and, as I squinted, I could make out someone lying on the ground, with four others clustered around the form. Further squinting revealed that it was a female, and that the alliance we were viewing was the Strong and Mighty. Bianca said that she saw red on the girl's abdomen, and when I saw the other girl rise and pick up a spear, throwing it into an empty pack fifteen feet away with startling accuracy, I knew the girl on the ground was Kiera.

"She must be dying," I muttered. And then I knew why Soprana had sent me the bow and arrows. "Soprana wants us to attack them."

"Why?" Bianca inquired. She didn't seem comfortable with the idea.

"Kiera's weak and exposed, and they're focused on her. I can snipe them from afar, take down Kiera and one or two others, and then easily lose them by going in the jungle. You can wait at the edge of the jungle, we'll go to the north one, and I'll meet you there, and we can hide for a few days. It'll work."

"Okay..." Bianca trailed off. "But we're doing it at night. I'm not letting you risking going after them in plain daylight."

I grumbled, but she eventually made me agree that we'd wait till midnight to head out. We returned to our room, where we rested up for a bit. We ate small portions of our rations, carefully making sure we'd have enough for at least four more days. I waited, constantly looking out at the Cornucopia and our possible victims. They barely ever moved from Kiera's side, none of them travelling past the ring of pedestals, as if it were some magical barrier. It wasn't a barrier, not for myself or for my arrows.

As soon as the anthem began to play, late that night, Bianca and I made our way down the stairwell. By the time Walter's face was flashing through the sky, we'd reached the ground level, and we were darting across the open expanse of pools and restaurants. I was thankful Bianca had made me wait; the Strong and Mighty probably would have spotted me. As we neared the edge, Bianca jogged in the other direction, towards the northern jungle. I fitted an arrow into my bow and slowly crept closer to the pedestals.

I crouched behind one, and I was astounded by what I saw. They had lit a big fire, and Serephina, Emmer, and Cephas all were lighting torches, preparing to _leave._ It would only be Dameon and wounded Kiera. Her breathing was labored and I could see the firelight making her damp red abdomen glisten. She was near death for sure, and all of them, even Kiera herself, knew it.

Serephina, Cephas, and Emmer all left camp, leaving Kiera and a tired, not-very-good-watchman Dameon open and exposed. I grinned to myself as I lifted my bow, trying my best to aim in the night.

This plan seemed to be succeeding

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medical kit. At the southern sand dunes._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 9 arrows, spear, pack full of food and water, and a medical kit. At the southern sand dunes._

 _Dameon Xaine: Katana, a dagger, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and iodine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Cameron Spark: Throwing knife, empty water bottle, and cooking pot. (Originally grabbed by Catherine). At smaller island IV._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle, jerky strips, night goggles, and iodine. At smaller island IV._

 _Christopher Tidesworth: Pack with strips of jerky, night goggles, empty water bottle, and a picture book. At the edge of the southern jungle._

 _Kiera Waters: Trident, two daggers, medical kit, and iodine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Emmer Schuliare: Mace, nunchucks, medical kit, empty water bottle, jerky strips, and iodine. At the southern sand dunes._

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 12 arrows, crackers, and iodine. Sneaking towards Cornucopia._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, two throwing knives, full water bottle, and two mangoes. In the northern jungle._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium: Dagger, jerky strips, crackers, and empty water bottle. (Originally grabbed by Camillie). At smaller island IV._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe,_ _Pack with crackers, dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Bethany Taylor: Pack with two throwing knives, crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with jerky, rope, and crackers. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Andrea Matches: Sickle, Pack with crackers and night goggles. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Bianca Catalano: Six throwing knives, Pack with jerky, iodine, and empty water bottle. Sneaking towards the northern jungle._

 _Hailea Himalayan: Dagger, throwing knife, Pack with rope, jerky, net, and crackers. At smaller island IV._

 _Camillie Montegro: Sickle, two daggers, empty medicine container, Pack with jerky, crackers, dried fruit, medical kit, rope, and empty water bottle. At smaller island_ _IV._

 _..._

 **A/N: So here's Day 2! A few cliffhangers, and quite a few opportunities for death.**

 **OBITUARIES:**

 **19th: Walter Inlaen, District 12 Male - Massacred by snake-seal mutts, finished off with a sword to the chest by Cephas Gold, District 1 Male**

 **Walter, dear Walter. You were a bloodbath I created, and when I thought up these mutts, I knew you'd be the prime one to be taken down by them. You were a good character to write and I wound up liking you too much. I was afraid of how far I'd take you if I let you stay in the Games, so I followed through with my original plan and let you be killed off by the snake-seals. The Strong and Mighty were a little decimated by the mutt attack, especially Kiera, when you lead the mutts to them, so I guess you helped out some other tributes through your death. I'm sorry *takes deep breath* to Mr. Inlaen, Mrs. Inlaen, Carol, Humphrey, Patricia, Daniel, Jeannie, Gregory, Nathalie, and Erwin. Your brother rests in peace with your other deceased brother, Zachary. They're having a rockin' party up in heaven!**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist)**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

 **Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson**

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt**

 **Cameron Spark -**

 **Catherine Spark -**

 **Christopher Tidesworth -**

 **Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson**

 **Emmer Schuliare -**

 **Caitlin Theardie -**

 **Steale Boeing -**

 **Olivanna Sanatorium -**

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

 **Bethany Taylor -**

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

 **Andrea Matches -**

Bison Seville -

 **Bianca Catalano -**

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

 **Camillie Montegro -**

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen**

 **Here is also something I thought might be helpful (Sorry I have such longer AN's!). It is a list of injuries so you know who is injured.**

 **INJURIES**

 **Kiera Waters: Gravelly injured abdomen from snake-seal attack**

 **Andrea Matches: Slashed open thigh, bandaged and not major from Theodore's pitchfork**

 **Hailea Himalayan: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from Serephina's spear**

 **Camillie Montegro: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from snake-seal attack**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV**

 **3\. Anything surprising/interesting/you liked?**

 **4\. Do you think Bianca and Caitlin will be able to follow through with their plan?**

 **5\. Do you think Kiera will be able to survive her injures?**

 **6\. Who do you think will die next?**

 **Sponsor if you want to! Please send all sponsor gifts by PM. If you can't send PM for any reason, comment your gifts on one of my other stories. Please count up your points, too. I'll be putting sponsor locks on some tributes after the receive too many gifts. After all, no tribute has limitless funds in the real Games. Example: It would make no sense if Caitlin, who got a bow and arrows today, got a sword or something else expensive like that the next day; the sponsors points wouldn't be realistically there. Anyway, enjoy sponsoring, and feel free to shake up the Games by sponsoring someone unlikable or who is under the radar.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	19. Day 3 Part 1: Twilight Hour

**A/N: Aaaaand Day 3 Part 1! Conflict will be resolved and kills will be made, and we'll visit some tributes we haven't seen much of yet. And, sorry to alarm you, but...all the events in this chapter happen within the space of about a single hour. Enjoy Day 3's very early morning, everyone!**

...

 ** _Bianca Catalano, 15, District 10 Female_**

 _"I don't need to care about what everyone else thinks."_

I didn't like Caitlin's plan at all, but I couldn't lose my only ally this early on because I refused to let her do something. I guessed I might have lost her now, to Dameon or Serephina or someone else. But it was the Games; you can lose your life and your friends, no matter what time of day it is or what situation you're in.

Navigating through the dunes wasn't the most fun thing to do when its pitch black, just past midnight. I tripped several times and got bunches of cuts on my arms and legs from the brambles and thorns of the bushes that clustered on the tops of the dunes. I ignored the scratches and kept blundering on. I held throwing knives in both hands. I only stopped when I reached the very fringe of the northern jungle, and then I let myself rest.

Only moments after I leaned against the tree behind me did I hear the cannon.

BOOM!

I waited, but I only heard one. Had it been Caitlin? Had they gotten her? My breathing started to quicken. My ally was gone. My ally was gone. No, no, no.

I was paralyzed in place for a bit. Only one cannon. I had lost my friend. I was alone. I shivered, and I felt a tear drip down my cheeks. Alone. The next onslaught of cold wind made me jump, and I backed into the forest.

Where would I go now? What would I do? Caitlin was dead. Caitlin was dead. They would come for me. They...they were coming for me. My arms and legs began to shake as I staggered deeper into the forest. Strange animals moved all around me, but I could only focus on moving my shuddering limbs. No. No. No. NO! Caitlin was dead. More tears dripped down my face as my shoulder smacked into a tree.

Suddenly I saw movement in the canopies above me. I froze, staring upwards, into the eyes of a frightened Steale Boeing.

"Oh. I thought you were the jaguar," he murmured, slowly slipping down the tree. I was shaking so badly, there was no way I could throw my knife at him. Was he going to kill me? I could not die on the same day as Caitlin, no, no, no.

"Do you need help? We can be allies," he said. I hesitantly nodded. I didn't even think it over. I couldn't be alone. I needed someone.

"Yes. Allies," I replied, quickly shaking his hand. "We are we going?"

"Back to my camp," he told me. "Follow me. I have to pick up some supplies from places I left them when the jaguar chased me. Can you help me, by any chance?"

"Sure," I murmured. "Where?"

As he pointed in one direction, saying there was a dead, hollowed out log there where his pack was, I heard a second cannon.

BOOM!

Had Caitlin somehow been delayed, and she had just killed someone else? Or had Kiera died from her injuries? Or had Caitlin been killed? Or was it someone else or something else entirely!?

"Ill go grab the pack," I muttered, turning in the right direction. I turned back when he spoke.

"Meet back at this tree," he said. He was shaking. Why was he shaking?

"Are you scared?" I asked him.

"It's the Hunger Games. If you're not scared, you're crazy," Steale grunted. I nodded, agreeing with him. Then I marched in the opposite direction, to where the hollowed out log and his pack waited. He jogged in the opposite direction, where he'd left his dagger. Good. He had a weapon.

I brushed aside some thick foliage, and then hollowed out log was revealed. I walked over to it, and I knelt down, looking inside. My fingers inched in, and they wrapped around something...

A paw. I tried to back up, but it was too late. The jaguar leaped from it resting place, snarling, and raked its claws across my throat. I could only give a small, quiet gurgle of pain before the black swarmed my vision, and I was all alone.

BOOM!

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"This plan seemed to be succeeding."_

I squinted, trying to make out the shapes of Dameon and Kiera in the firelight. My fingers tightened around the bowstring. I decided that I only had time to take out one; I could hear clamor in the dunes nearby, where Emmer, Serephina, and Cephas were hunting or chasing someone or something. I only had one shot, and Kiera was already well on her way to dying...

"Kiera!" Dameon cried, looking up, his arms outstretched. A silvery parachute was floating down towards her. Dameon snatched it out of the air, cracking it open. My hands shook, so I clamped them down harder on the bow.

"What?" Kiera rasped, her voice barely audible above the crackling of the fire and the yells from the dunes.

"It's medicine, for you. It's going to heal you," Dameon said, grinning. He started to twist of the lid slowly but surely...

 _Thwack._ Dameon looked, dumbfounded, at my arrow, which was sticking out of his thigh. I swore, and quickly fired another. It sliced into the right side of his chest, and within moments he collapsed on the sand.

BOOM!

"Dameon? Dameon? Dameon?!" Kiera yelped. "DAMEON!"

I quickly made a beeline from the area. Emmer, Serephina, and Cephas would hear the cannon and Kiera's distraught cries and come racing back as soon as possible. I ducked down as low as I could as I ran across the sands. I'd done it. I'd killed someone. My breathing quickened. As I neared the edge of the jungle, I heard a noise that frightened me beyond belief.

BOOM!

No. Bianca? Had it been Bianca? I told myself to calm down; Kiera probably had bled out or something. Calm, Caitlin, calm. You have to keep calm. If you freak out, you could be the next cannon that goes off.

I anxiously started patrolling the edge of the jungle, walking up and down the entire length of the fringe of the forest. She had said that she would meet me here. She had promised. I knew she had deserted me. Either she'd been forced into the jungle for some reason and was okay, had been forced to run somewhere else, or was dead. I had to accept the fact that my only ally could possibly be dead.

As I reached the spot I started from, I jumped at the loud noise that filled the arena.

BOOM!

No. I didn't even think, I just sprinted into the forest, dodging trees and bushes and little critters that scurried on the forest floor. I lost all sense of self control, darting from place to place around the jungle. I looked up trees, in furrows in the ground, and under piles of leaves. I started to frantically call out Bianca's name. It started out quiet, so quiet I could barely hear it. But then it turned into my normal voice, soon escalating to a scream. I screeched my head off, crying out for Bianca. Where was my friend? I shouldn't have lost her this soon.

After twenty minutes of frantic searching, I stumbled into the path of a certain Steale Boeing.

"Caitlin, are you alright?" he asked me calmly. He saw my grip tighten on my bow. "Please, don't shoot. You have to stop screaming; the Strong and Mighty, or more probable, the jaguars, will come for you, and then we'll both be screwed."

"Have you seen Bianca?" I panted, sweat dripping down my face.

"I saw her sprint by manically fast a bit ago. She didn't even see me, I was up in a tree, you know. Are you worried that that last cannon was her's?"

"Desperately," I murmured. So the first or second cannons had not been Bianca. But why had she been sprinting into the woods? "Do you know which way she went?"

"That way," he said, pointing about due north. I nodded frantically and quickly jogged off. I turned around a few seconds later to ask Steale one last question, but he was already gone, the leaves of the low hanging branches stirred by the speed of his departure. I turned back around and jogged for several minutes. I reached a section where tall grass crowded a semi-clearing, and I had a feeling something important lay ahead.

I peeled back the grass in front of me, and then I proceeded to bury my face in my hands. Bianca lay in a pool of her own blood, still and stiff, four claw marks raked across her throat. The jaguars Steale had spoken about. Had she been frightened by the cannons, thinking I'd been killed, and she'd run for her own safety? Had she been running, making unintentional racket, the jaguars attacked her, ripping her to shreds? I just let the tears drip down my face, hidden by my hands. We should have never, ever, ever split up. She should've stayed back at the hotel. If she had stayed there, my darling Bianca would still be alive, spitting sarcasms and insults my way as she flipped her beautiful silky black hair over her shoulder. She would still be worrying about me and keeping watch most of the time, because she knew I did a lot of the heavy lifting in the Games and that I couldn't wake myself early because I slept in so often. That gave me another frightening thought. How would I keep watch if it was only me, myself, and I? Who would protect my fragile sleeping form as I dozed?!

Sometimes, at home in 5, all I'd want to do was to be alone, to have some time to myself. Now I knew being alone was terrible, deadly. I couldn't bear it, even though I was a brave, strong girl. I couldn't do it. So I fell to a low of lows, and I called out a single name as I gave a parting glance to Bianca's corpse.

"Steale?"

His response was immediate. He swung down from a nearby tree and quietly consoled me before leading me back to his tree. We rested there, and I ate some of a fruit called mangoes that Steale had harvested from the upper branches of the trees. He showed me how water from a rainstorm before the force field was built was saved in these little cup-like plants, and how it was fresh and delicious, pure. He showed me the best branches to sleep on, the ones that were the firmest and thickest. Steale might not be the most interesting or able company, but he was company. I wasn't all alone, and that was all that I cared about. The sun hadn't rose yet, but it felt like an entire month had passed. Just as I started to pass out, I heard something.

BOOM!

...

 _ **Christopher Tidesworth, 15, District 4 Male**_

 _"I didn't mean to cause a fight."_

How did people get out of the Games without being immediately checked into an insane asylum?!

For the past two days, any little noise I heard, any little movement I saw, caused me to jump and scurry to my hiding place. I would curl up in the shadow of the dune, where a fallen palm tree and a few bushes shielded me from view. It was nice and it was safe. It just sucked being alone. When I saw Theodore's face up in the sky after the bloodbath, I knew Kiera had made her first kill. That monster...I had no idea how I'd ever liked her. Fatal attraction of a sort, I guess.

My little dune sanctuary was nice and swell, sure. My pack contained strips of jerky to sate my hunger, night goggles, a picture book about the Dark Days (that was entertaining for the whole space of about five minutes), and a sadly empty water bottle. It was nice, hiding. But the dunes were dry. I had no water. My throat was parched. I waited it out the first and second days, hoping for some magical sponsor gift, but of course I wouldn't get one. So, soon after Walter's face lit across the sky, my burning, desiccated throat got the better of me. I snapped on my night goggles, grabbed my empty water bottle and a thick branch to use as a club, and I trekked out over to the jungle to find some water.

I was milling around the fringe of the forest when I heard the first cannon.

BOOM!

I jumped, ducking behind one of the trees. Only seconds later did I see the torches and hear the cat calls of three prowling hunters, searching for me.

I tried to run back to my safe haven, but an arrow sliced through my calf. I shrieked, clutching my wounded leg, and my pursuers rushed over, frowning. I looked up to see Emmer standing above me. He lifted his mace and whacked me hard on the side of the head. It wasn't hard enough to kill me, at least I thought, but my vision was filled with black, and, as I went unconscious, I could hear frantic voices as I was lifted off the ground by human hands.

"We got to get back to Kiera now. She might be dead already."

I managed to remain some form of consciousness, and my vision blurred, but I was still alive.

...

 _ **Emmer Schuliare, 15, District 5 Male**_

 _"They just couldn't understand me because of their low IQs."_

We crested the last sand dune, and Serephina swore profusely. We all tumbled down the last dune, barely keeping our grip on barley conscious Christopher as we approached our campsite with dread and fear.

The firelight bathed the bloody, frightened form of prostrate Kiera and the dead, crumpled body of Dameon eerily. Cephas and I dumped Christopher next to Kiera while Serephina knelt by Dameon's still form. She checked his pulse and examined the arrow in his leg and the other arrow buried deep in his chest. She quickly announced the thing we all obviously knew already.

"He's dead," she somberly declared.

"Did you bring Christopher?" Kiera muttered.

"Yes, he's right here," Cephas said, pointing to his stirring form.

"They got me medicine...sponsors did..." she trailed off. "It arrived before Dameon was shot..."

I quickly darted over to where the parachute lay, inches from Dameon's body. It was splattered with drying blood. The medicine had been taken out it seems. Serephina found the container in his still hands and pried it loose.

"It's not a lot, but it should help," Serephina said. "I don't see a note, it must have gotten lost or something."

Serephina handed me the small pot of medicine, and I started to kneel by Kiera side, when I heard a growl, and a body smashed into my side.

I screamed as Christopher slammed into me, starting to awaken from his haze. To all of our horrors (except Christopher's), the medicine flew from my hands as I fell to the ground, smashing into bits, the liquidy medicine being absorbed into the sand. Kiera began to wail. That medicine would have fixed her; she knew nothing could save her precariously dangling life now besides a simple miracle.

Christopher scrambled on top of Kiera, frantically ripping of her bandages. She screeched, trying to shake him off, but he started scratching, like a rabid hound, at her bloody, barely healing wounds. She screamed even louder as his fingers became coated in her blood, and she shakily raised a knife-wielding arm. She groaned in pain as she shoved the knife into his neck. He quickly fell off of her, dead.

BOOM!

Kiera was breathing hard and fast, woozy and fading quickly. I tried to scrounge up some medicine from the shattered container or the gritty sand, but they were both useless. Kiera was going to die.

"He's dead," she rasped, her skin having a sweaty sheen in the firelight. "I can go in peace now."

"No, Kiera-" Cephas began, but I waved him off.

"It's her choice," I said sadly. "If she wants to die, she can." Cephas just grunted, annoyed with me.

"Kiera, we can try to save you," Serephina cooed tenderly, kneeling beside her friend of sorts.

"We all know it's too late, and I'd rather not struggle for another twelve hours until I finally bleed out or something like that," Kiera hissed, her eyes squeezed tight in pain. "I always wondered how it would feel to be shot in the heart with an arrow."

As Serephina somberly prepared to shoot our pained ally in the heart, something flew down from the sky. Kiera grinned, and Serephina grabbed it. As Serephina tore open the parachute, we heard a sound.

BOOM!

We looked at Kiera, but life still glinted in her eyes. Three deaths, in the space of a half hour? This Games might be the quickest yet.

Serephina popped open the capsule, pulling out a little chocolate cupcake. She had Cephas peel off the wrapper and feed it to Kiera as she read the note aloud.

"I'm so sorry, Kiera, but we don't have enough sponsor money for more medicine. Here's a chocolate cupcake, your favorite, to enjoy your life while you still can. The ocean will miss you back home. From Oisin."

Kiera grinned as the chocolate cake and frosting smeared on her face, and she sighed happily. She rested for twenty minutes, silent, savoring the taste of the cupcake and her last moments of life. We all watched her likes hawks the entire time. Was she dying? Would Serephina not need to put her arrow through her chest?

After about twenty minutes, Kiera's placid grin returned to a pained scowl.

"It...hurts...like never before..." she trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut. "I...I don't want to...die like thi...this. Shoo...oot me, Sere...sere...serephi..."

Serephina smiled sadly at Kiera, caressing her face tenderly. We all said goodbye as her state worsened, and then Serephina let go of the arrow. It sunk into her chest, and Kiera's face finally looked fully at peace.

BOOM!

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medical kit. At the Cornucopia._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 9 arrows, spear, pack full of food and water, and a medical kit. At the Cornucopia._

 _Cameron Spark: Throwing knife, empty water bottle, and cooking pot. (Originally grabbed by Catherine). At smaller island IV._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle, jerky strips, night goggles, and iodine. At smaller island IV._

 _Emmer Schuliare: Mace, nunchucks, medical kit, empty water bottle, jerky strips, and iodine. At the Cornucopia_

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, and iodine. In the northern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, two throwing knives, full water bottle, and two mangoes. In the northern jungle._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium: Dagger, jerky strips, crackers, box of 3 coconut-lime cupcakes, and empty water bottle. (Originally grabbed by Camillie). At smaller island IV._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe,_ _Pack with crackers, dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Bethany Taylor: Pack with two throwing knives, crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with jerky, rope, and crackers. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Andrea Matches: Sickle, Pack with crackers and night goggles. Inside_ Rosalia's Mexican Grill.

 _Hailea Himalayan: Dagger, throwing knife, medicine, air-tight sealed meal of potatoes, steak, and gravy, full water bottle, Pack with rope, jerky, net, and crackers. At smaller island IV._

 _Camillie Montegro: Sickle, two daggers, empty medicine container, Pack with jerky, crackers, dried fruit, medical kit, rope, and empty water bottle. At smaller island_ _IV._

 _..._

 **A/N: Four deaths. A few big contenders have been taken out, and other, weaker tributes are starting to flourish. This should be interesting indeed. (It should be noted that I've totally abandoned my original story plan and I'm just going with the flow.) And I will try and tone down the mutt-made kills (I know there's already been three), I just find mutt deaths interesting. Don't you worry, there will be plenty more tribute made kills in the near future...**

 **And yes. This all happened within an hour. I know, crazy. Just bear with me; part 2 should be out soon. I didn't plan on doing parts for this chapter, or any chapter for that matter. But when I wrote this, I just didn't want to rush through the rest of the day in every POV by saying "And then we sat there for another 22 or something hours, enjoying our day." So next chapter will most likely be deathless, and it will just be about character development, yada yada.**

 **OBITUARIES**

 **18th: Dameon Xaine, District 2 Male - Shot in the chest with an arrow by Caitlin Theardie, District 5 Female**

 **I sort of liked Dameon at the beginning of this story, but he slowly grew out of favor with me. Before the Games started, I knew he'd be one of the first in his alliance to go. Not that he wasn't capable of Victory, he just wasn't the most likable character or the easiest to write. He was basically obsessed with showing his parents and sisters that he was amazing at killing others, and that was his only motivation. I guess Dy'lan was right about you volunteering, and hopefully watching your death dissuades your sisters Baylor and Bailey from entering the Games. (If Baylor entered next year at 18, she'd end up being killed in Mags' Hunger Games...). My condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Xaine, Dy'lan, Baylor, and Bailey. He's surprisingly your first to go, I Read To Escape The World. I'm surprised, too.**

 **17th: Christopher Tidesworth, District 4 Male - Stabbed in the throat with throwing knife by Kiera Waters, District 4 Female**

 **This is one of the characters in my SYOT that I feel I totally botched. His crush on Kiera was in no way supposed to be Everlark like, but it ended up that way because I wasn't sure how to write it, and I ended up writing it like Everlark. My inferior writing messed up one submitter's only character, and NTC, I am so sorry for that. He was originally going to be taken down in the bloodbath, but when he made the Water and Apples alliance with Theodore, I saw Theodore going down as a sort of taunt to Christopher as a better way to do it. I'm sorry to your Grandma Ernestine. Now she'll have to complain about the Games to no one but herself. You started to become sort of interesting to write, but I had to kill you to make room for more interesting, well liked characters. I'm sorry, Chris, and I'm VERY sorry, NTC, for screwing up a decent character.**

 **16th: Bianca Catalano, District 10 Female - Lead to jaguar mutt by Steale Boeing, District 6 Male, and throat slashed open by jaguar mutt**

 **Bianca, Bianca, Bianca. Dear girl, I loved you the moment I got your submission form. I originally had you making the Top 8, even the Final Four at some points. But I thought about it realistically, and I knew either Caitlin or you would have to go down eventually, before the final parts of the Games. This also provided a way to deepen Steale's character and show that he isn't just a hider that's been barely surviving in the Games. You were one of the easier POVs to write from, and I thank you for that. I'm sorry to Mr. and Mrs. Catalano, Sofia, Diego, Eleanor, and the mayor's son for losing a sassy and powerful girl that you all cared about. I'm also sorry, Mistycharming, for killing off your only character. I hope you'll still read even though Bianca is dead.**

 **15th: Kiera Waters, District 4 Female - Abdomen slashed open by snake-seal mutts, wounds made worse by Christopher Tidesworth, District 4 Male, shot with an arrow to the chest by Serephina Manchas, District 2 Female**

 **Oh Kiera. You're the other character (also one of NTC's) that I screwed up. I LOVED your first chapter, when I looked back on it. You were an amazing character, but I got too wrapped up in the conflict between you and Christopher. I morphed my lovely, homosexual mayor's daughter into a cold hearted, angry, and vicious killer. I guess that's what happens to people in the Hunger Games, but if I hadn't limited your character earlier on in the story like I had, you would've lasted much longer, maybe even to the end. I'm so sorry to Mayor Waters, Mrs. Waters, Charlie, your friends Alison and Jacob, and your maid Carmelita. And I'm sorry once again, NTC, for screwing up another lovely character.**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist)**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt, Kiera Waters**

 **Cameron Spark -**

 **Catherine Spark -**

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

 **Emmer Schuliare -**

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist)**

 **Olivanna Sanatorium -**

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

 **Bethany Taylor -**

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

 **Andrea Matches -**

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

 **Camillie Montegro -**

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano**

 **INJURIES**

 **Cephas Gold: Minor cut on left forearm from Christopher's throwing knife**

 **Caitlin Theardie: Minor cuts on legs from thorns of bushes on the sand dunes**

 **Andrea Matches: Slashed open thigh, bandaged and not major from Theodore's pitchfork**

 **Hailea Himalayan: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from Serephina's spear**

 **Camillie Montegro: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from snake-seal attack**

 **ALLIANCE UPDATE  
**

 **Strong and Mighty: Serephina, Emmer, and Cephas**

 **Young and Free: Camillie, Catherine, Cameron, Hailea, and Olivanna**

 **Fabulous Four: Chen, Bethany, Andrea, and Holly**

 **5 + 6 + All Alone = Allies?!: Caitlin and Steale**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV**

 **3\. Anything surprising/interesting?**

 **4\. Most surprising death?  
**

 **5\. Most surprising killer?**

 **6\. What did you think of Steale this chapter, and his new alliance with Caitlin?**

 **7\. Who do you think will die next? (anyone one who predicts the next death right receives 2 extra sponsor points)**

 **Thank you all again for reading. Be on the lookout; I'm going to publish a new SYOT when this story nears its close, so I can start getting tributes while this story ends. I have four ideas, and I'd like you to tell me which one you like better.**

 **1\. Should I do a Divergent crossover? (5 tributes from each faction + 5 Factionless tributes, in a different city and different experiment).**

 **2\. Should I do a normal SYOT, a sequel to this one? (The 12th Games, as the 11th Games is Mags' Games).**

 **3\. Should I do a Selection crossover? (The 34 girls who didn't win are placed in a Games.)**

 **4\. Or should I do a Quarter Quell where pairs of twins are Reaped, and if one twin dies, so does the other, and both twins make it out of the arena?**

 **Thanks for the feedback and the encouragement!**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	20. Day 3 Part 2: Rise and Set

**A/N: And here is the other 23 hours of Day 3! Enjoy, character development is abound in this chapter. And we finally get to see the Fabulous Four! (Sorry for their lack of POVs; they haven't been involved in any action since the bloodbath so I haven't focused on them yet.)** **Sorry for the wait. I had writer's block for this chapter, I needed to do some chapters for 500YOP (AKA 500 Years of Penance, my Victor's Chronicles story. Go check it out!), and I also had some stuff happen in life that distracted me from writing. And I also didn't want to hand you a 2 POV, 1,500 word chapter, so I fought my writer's block and tried to write something larger than that and succeeded. Just so you know, chapters will not be coming out every day like they were before; I just had a few days with nothing to do, so I just wrote as much as I could those days. Again, sorry for the delay.**

 **P.S. Thanks for 100+ reviews!**

...

 _ **Steale Boeing, 16, District 6 Male**_

 _"Maybe this wouldn't be too bad."_

I watched Caitlin uncomfortably fall asleep on the bough beneath me. I pulled out my two throwing knives, laying them in my palm, the pad of my thumb gliding across their sleek, metallic surfaces. I could kill Caitlin. She was sleeping, exposed, only two or three feet beneath me. I could kill her, and no one would know. They'd still think I was just a little boy, hiding in the jungle, being hunted by jaguars, eventually going to be killed, because no one like me can win the Games. Uriah, anyone? But I shoved the throwing knives back in my pack before leaning against the tree. I wanted to close my eyes and fall asleep, but I didn't want Caitlin waking up and seeing me asleep. I was supposed to be "on guard." What she didn't understand is that the jaguar mutts don't climb the trees for whatever reason, and that both of us sleeping without a lookout is perfectly safe. But I'd scored a 5. She'd scored a 9, and she had been part of an alliance aptly named Ferocity. She could and would gut me if I made a bad move. It was reassuring to have a strong ally, but also pretty worrying at the same time.

I stayed awake, for my new ally's sake, until halfway through the night, when I shook her awake, telling her it was her turn for watch. She seemed irritated but I ignored her annoyance, leaning back and almost immediately falling asleep after I closed my eyes.

.

I woke up several hours later, as the sun began to glimmer over the horizon. Almost immediately I set to work, forgetting that Caitlin sat on the branch below me. I climbed into the upper reaches of the trees, tearing mangoes from their branches. I placed four fresh, ripe fruits in my pack and then took out my small-ish water bottle, nearly empty. I found one of the cup-like plants, and tear it from the branch, pouring its fresh contents into the bottle. Before I took a sip I see a strange shimmer in the water. A faint purple-pink shimmer. Duskfruit.

I looked around immediately. I learned about this fruit a while back in training, at edible plants. I searched restlessly for it source, finally spotting it in a nearby tree. I looked up to see the carcass of a monkey several branches above, a half eaten, oblong, magenta duskfruit clasped in its still, frozen hands.

"We need to move," I called down to Caitlin. I shimmied my way over to the other tree by the way of a thick tree branch that stuck out into the canopy of the next tree over, not a duskfruit tree. I checked the water there. It was more of the same. All the trees around us had several dead monkeys in them and polluted water cups. Damn. We'd lost our water source. I leaped down to the ground, where Caitlin was standing, a little sleepy and dazed.

"We have no water," I growled, showing her the poisoned water bottle. I couldn't put anything else in the bottle; doing so would probably taint the new water as well.

"Check some more trees. This place is secure," Caitlin yawned, stretching her arms.

I rolled my eyes after I turned away, climbing up another tree. I checked over thirty trees. After the first ten, the water was just plain polluted with toxins. I guess some Gamemaker got tired of directing the monkey mutts to commit suicide over the water cups and just flat out poisoned them. I growled, mumbling to myself, but then I had an idea. I filled up the water bottle with tainted water, and climbed down to Caitlin's side.

"We can leave this out, and someone might drink it," I told her. "We just could leave it somewhere random."

We start marching through the jungle, northbound, away from the Cornucopia and the Strong and Mighty alliance. We reach the beach a couple of hours past noon after we've wandered and checked dozens of more trees. All polluted. What do they want me to do for water, commit suicide?!

I set the tainted water bottle down on the beach, digging a small hole in the sand for it to sit in. It gleamed in the sun invitingly.

"No one's probably up here," Caitlin grunted.

"There's people near here. I heard them when I was camped out near here on the first night," I replied. "They're not here now, but-"

I was cut off when we spotted the five tributes sitting on the beach. I quickly named them.

"Cameron, Catherine, Camillie, Olivanna, and Hailea," I whispered as Caitlin and I backed into the jungle. "The little kiddos are still kicking, I guess."

"Yeah," Caitlin muttered. Neither of us mentioned that she was 15 and I was 16, and we could blend in along with them.

"They'll see the water. They can't have much," I said. "Let's stay camped out near here. We have everything."

"I could take them out," Caitlin growled, squeezing her bow tight. "But they look so..."

"Innocent. Carefree. Elated," I finished. "The opposite of what you should be in the Hunger Games."

"Yeah. Yeah," she said.

We climbed into a tree that was water cup-less just in case the Gamemakers decided to pull a stunt and pour their contents over our heads. We sat there for hours, chatting about our lives. She quietly told me about her approaching-senile grandmother, and I, equally as quiet, murmured about my dead father and my mother, probably all alone right now, watching me sitting in the tree with her, begging and praying to the God she still believed in to save me from this hellish competition. I'd given up God soon after I got old enough to realize what the Hunger Games really were.

We conversed for hours upon hours, until the sky was painted black and dotted with artificial stars.

"Have you ever realized that these stars are nothing like those in the real night sky?" I asked her.

"Often," she murmured. "The night sky is rather entertaining when you're all alone." I nodded in agreement. She took first watch, and I prepared for sleep as the anthem played, the sky showing the four faces of Dameon, Christopher, Kiera, and Bianca. It felt like weeks ago I had directed Bianca to the jaguar's lair, that I'd heard the other cannons. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging for sleep to overcome me.

 _..._

 ** _Chen Evoncurst, 17, District 7 Male_**

 _"I'll protect you."_

The four cannons roused the three of us from our slumber gradually. Holly sat on the bar counter, standing guard. Andi, Bethany, and I were sleeping behind the counter. Andi laid several feet away, and Bethany was snuggled tight up against my chest.

"Four more," Bethany murmured, aghast. "In an hour."

"Yeah," Holly muttered. "Yeah."

"So, want to make bets on who it was?" Andi inquired, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Gruesome, but it'll be a way to pass the time," I replied. "So, who do we have left?"

"Well, now we're down to 14 people," Holly said. "Us four, then the Strong and Mighty: Cephas, Dameon, Serephina, Kiera, and Emmer. Then there's Bianca and Caitlin, Ferocity, then the Young and Free, Camillie, Catherine, Cameron, Olivanna, and Hailea. There's also Christopher and Steale on their own."

"My bets are Catherine, Cameron, Olivanna, and Hailea," Andi said. "The 'Careers', as people are starting to call them back home, probably found them and killed a good chunk of them."

"Mine are Steale, Bianca, Caitlin, and Christopher," I spoke up. "Chris and Steale probably had a fight and both bled out, and the 'Careers' found Bianca and Caitlin."

"I'm placing my imaginary money on Cephas, Dameon, Kiera, and Serephina," Bethany murmured.

"Why is that?" I asked her, pulling her closer to my chest.

"Because I'm hopeful that those goddamned beasts got slaughtered, because if they did, we have a shot at making it home."

"No offense, but I'm happily surprised that we're still intact," Holly muttered.

"Agreed," Andi said. "I don't know, I was just scared." We nodded, not wanting to elaborate that we'd all imagined one another dying at the hands of the "Careers".

"Holly, your bets?" Bethany questioned the girl, who was still perched on the bar.

"I don't know, honestly," she said. "I think we should all just go to sleep."

We all reluctantly agreed, curling back up into our sleeping positions. Bethany nuzzled herself into my chest, and I breathed in the sweet scent of her hair, grinning as I fell asleep. I wasn't in love, not yet, but I liked her a lot. She made me feel happy, and she was comforting, along with our friends, in this terrible situation.

.

I had the terrible thought, soon after I woke up, that I hoped we got attacked soon. I couldn't kill any of my friends, if we all made it to the end. I couldn't imagine digging my axe into Holly's skull, and into Andi's back. And I couldn't imagine killing Bethany, though she'd probably be the only one capable of putting up a fight. We'd whispered late Day 2 about our affections. We agreed it was a good relationship, but that we would fight each other if we had to. It was terrible, to think these things, but I had to. It was the Hunger Games. You have to get your act together.

Holly and Andi had split the watch last night, as Bethany and I had split the watch the previous night. I slowly woke up Bethany. She looked so peaceful, perfect, snuggled up against my chest...

"Guys," Andi hissed. She'd slid from the watch-out position atop the counter and onto the ground. "Guys!"

"Hmm?" Holly asked, waking up.

"The Strong and Mighty are outside. Not right outside, but not far, either. We need to move."

We packed up everything that was behind the counter, pretty much all of our supplies except for Holly's jerky and my cracker's, half eaten, which were sitting out in the open. They would know someone had been here.

We finished packing up swiftly, and we cracked open the back door. It creaked a little bit, but every structure was creaking in the wind that was blowing through the arena, stronger than it had been when the Games had started. We darted out, dashing to and ducking behind the next building over. I peered around the corner of the building to see the Careers, as I will call them now, inspecting the tiki bar very close to our previous hideout, _Rosalia's Mexican Grill._

We sprinted as fast as we could, into the dunes. We sat down behind a particularly tall and wide one, pulling some driftwood-like logs from their resting places to form a protective barrier. Then we draped some brambles over it to make it look wild and natural. We made sure to wipe away our footprints in the sand before we hunkered down in our little fortress.

Soon after we'd settled down, a larger silver parachute dropped down from the sky. Holly reached out, nabbing it from the sky and tearing it open. Inside sat a quart of fresh, pure water. We all drank cap fulls of water, relieved. We'd found some water in _Rosalia's_ in the sink, and it was nasty but drinkable. We'd be okay for a few more days with this wonderful sponsor gift. Holly read the sponsor note.

 _Great job surviving so far. Drink up. - Uriah_

We spent the rest of the day playing tick tack toe and hangman in the sand. Bethany cuddled with me most of the day, and Holly and Andi got in a heated debate about politics that I didn't really understand a lot about. Bethany and I, towards the end of the day, started to dig a small tunnel in the sand, just wide enough for someone to shimmy into. Holly and Andi were so absorbed in their debate that they didn't see our work.

"If anyone ever comes or there's any trouble, climb in here. I'll protect it," I told Bethany. Then we pulled two logs over the entrance to cover it up.

"What's that?" Andi asked, her debate with Holly over.

"Just some indent in the sand. Nothing important," I swiftly lied. Bethany looked at me strangely but just crawled over to me, grasping my hand and squeezing it tight. I smiled down at her, and, slowly, ever slow, I pressed my lips against hers. She pressed back, lightly at first, then firmer, and our kiss began to deepen.

"Whoa, calm down lovebirds," Holly chuckled. "Get a room. There's a hotel down the road. Then you can have a night _alone._ " Andi cackled, and Bethany and I blushed, embarrassed. I brushed off their comments, looking around. Night had fallen. I took first watch, sitting on top of the logs, looking around. Soon after I started watch, the skies lit up the sky. We all waited, seeing who would win the bet. Holly had randomly picked 4 people; Christopher, Bianca, Kiera, and Hailea. We hungrily read the names from the sky, and the winner of our little bet was shocking.

 _Dameon Xaine, District 2 Male_

 _Christopher Tidesworth, District 4 Male_

 _Kiera Waters, District 4 Female_

 _Bianca Catalano, District 10 Female_

"Holly, you're...right," Andi growled. "Three outta four. Luck."

Holly was giggling, and soon we all were. I never, ever wanted this to end. I never wanted to lose the feeling of sharing laughter with these amazing people. I never wanted to lose the feeling of Bethany's smoother, smaller hand held tight in my larger hand. I never wanted to lose this feeling of belonging. I never wanted to lose this feeling of love.

"I love this," I said suddenly, and they looked at me, understanding. This was life. The Hunger Games were life, on a faster and more deadly scale. You experienced the worst and the best of emotions and times, and one fatal blunder could lead to death instead of a lost job or a pay cut. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push away all the metaphors crowding my mind. All that mattered now was this, us. I pulled out four pieces of dried fruit and handed a piece of each of my friends.

"We already had dinner," Bethany said.

"Cheers," I smirked, and we all "clinked" our pieces of shriveled fruit together, smiling and laughing before dropping the sweet little bits in our mouths.

We all laid down, look at the star smattered sky. I hugged Bethany tight, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, before climbing up onto the logs around our little campsite and taking watch.

 _..._

 ** _Cephas Gold, 18, District 1 Male_**

 _"I was truly ready to win."_

Immediately after Kiera had left us, we set out at a brisk walk away from her body, and the bodies of Christopher and Dameon. The hovercraft had already retrieved a body from deep in the northern jungle, and we watched from a distance as it picked up the limp, cold bodies of Dameon, Christopher, and Kiera one by one, placing them in its belly. Then it whizzed away, disappearing over the horizon as it flew over the sea.

We slowly and solemnly made our way back to the camp. The bodies of the three might have been gone, but the sand was still stained with their blood, and Serephina was looking distastefully as the gore splattered across her hands. She walked down to the ocean to wipe it off as Emmer and I sat down my the embers of the fire. I coaxed them back to life, and Emmer threw a couple of driftwood pieces onto the flames. Soon our small fire was crackling, alive again, and Serephina had returned from her short cleansing mission down by the sea. Emmer took first watch, sitting there with his legs crossed, his lips pursed in thought, as Serephina and I fell asleep, basking in the heat of the flames.

.

Emmer woke me up for the third watch, murmuring sleepily that he'd let Serephina rest because she looked so peaceful. He was right. He seemed to harbor some form of affection for her, but it was nothing, I knew. Emmer was a level-headed kid; he probably was just being kind because she'd been nice to him and had brought him into our alliance.

Our alliance. Down to only three members. Decimated, while alliances of weaklings like the Young and Free flourished. Goddammit, Dameon, Natalia, and Kiera had all died before Steale, for goodness's sake! I still didn't know how he'd managed to survive, but I wouldn't let him pull a Uriah Matherton. No way in hell.

The hours melted together as I sat in the damp sand, letting the flames heat my suntanned skin. Eventually fingers of color and light peeked around the menacing abandoned hotel, which blocked the sunrise, which was most likely beautiful. I was tempted to go it alone and sit on the roof of the building more than once to watch the colors splatter and swirl slowly in the sky until the sun rose, but I knew it was a horrible idea. The Strong and Mighty couldn't be shaved down to only 2 members by Day 3. We needed to stick together.

By the time dawn had passed and the sun had fully risen behind the immense hotel, Serephina and Emmer were waking up on their own. They groggily sat beside me, and we watched the arena around us light up with light, waking up like we were. The animals of the jungle started to wake up, the incessant squawks of parrots slowly filling the air. The buzz of insects also was noticeable, and, as always, the low, monotone slapping of the waves on the beach was heard, like a ticking clock in the background. We ate a breakfast of dried food we scavenged from the Cornucopia's diminishing stores. Soon, we'd have to venture into the jungle or other places to find food and water, which was not a good sign. The Gamemakers, I had a feeling, wanted to break the 8th Games' length record; just over 6 days. I doubted that would happen, though. We still had 14 left on Day 3, maybe a few less by the end of the day, if I had any say in it. 13 people don't just die in 3 days, especially in the later Games. Brick Talladega, that year's Victor, just slaughtered a good eight people in the bloodbath, and three others died, making the largest bloodbath ever, 11. The next highest had been a measly 7. The lowest, from the First and Third Games, had been 2 kills. The usual was 5 or 6, though, like had occurred this year. Basing on my Games' knowledge, Pumpkin's Games had had 5 bloodbath kills. They'd lasted around 8 to 10 days, I think.

I shook the thoughts from my head when Serephina suggested going hunting. The sun had barely fully risen, so tributes would be groggy and dazed. It would be easy to take them out. All of us grabbed our weapons and suited up, preparing to go hunting.

We started to head out towards the hotel, but Emmer mentioned it would be smart to hide in the bars and restaurants. So we started investigating them, one by one. We found nothing again and again and again. Serephina swore she saw movement in some "Rosalia's Mexican Grill", but, after we finished going through Paradise Tiki Bar, no one was inside. Emmer pointed out some sandy footprints, and I picked up half eaten packets of crackers and jerky. We disposed of the possibly poisoned foods and continued hunting, but found no one. Soon enough it was around noon, and we headed back to the Cornucopia.

"There was someone in that Rosalia's place, we narrowly missed them," Serephina muttered. "Narrowly, narrowly."

We sat down and had a small lunch, barely realizing we'd left the Cornucopia unprotected and in the open. But nothing important had been stolen, so I guessed we were fine. After lunch, we just laid around, chatting about our lives back home. I didn't really listen and didn't contribute much to the conversation; I was still a little sleepy, and I even dozed off for a bit at one point.

Soon night came around. I'd been tending the fire instead of joining Serephina and Emmer's intent conversation. Suddenly the anthem was playing, the seal flashing in the sky. We all fell quiet as we looked up, waiting to see who the fourth person to die today had been.

Bianca. It was Bianca. I wasn't totally surprised, though I'd thought it was either Steale or one of the munchkins from Young and Free.

I curled up in the sand after Bianca's face faded from the sky. She was sort of beautiful, and fiery, too. If I hadn't been immediately invited into Strong and Mighty, I might've went with her and Caitlin, and evened the playing field. But the past could not be undone, and I would have to kill everyone else either way, so it didn't really matter much.

I fell asleep as Serephina took first watch, dreaming about President Gaius Snow placing the Victor's crown on my head.

 _..._

 ** _Cameron Spark, 12, District 3 Male_**

 _"All I wanted was to keep my sister safe."_

Olivanna woke us all up, grinning and smiling. Soon after all of the cannons, we'd restlessly fallen asleep, with Camillie taking first watch, Hailea second, and Olivanna third. She shook Hailea forcefully and then we were all awake, and we looked up at the sky where she was pointing, and we all grinned.

Three silvery parachutes descended, two towards Hailea, one towards Olivanna. Hailea grabbed hers from the air while Olivanna let hers land on the sand. Hailea tore open the silver packages to reveal a quart of fresh water and an air-tight sealed meal of steak, potatoes, and gravy. The steam on the plastic hinted that the meal was still warm. Hailea read both of her notes to herself and passed them around.

 _You guys just ran out of water from the pond, so, Hail, here's some water. Drink up, but not too fast. - Pumpkin_

 _You're getting popular Hail. Here's a meal to celebrate. - Pumpkin_

Hailea filled up Catherine's empty water bottle and passed it around. Then, after we'd all sated our thirst, Olivanna eagerly open her parachute, marveling at her sponsor gift. She cracked open the white cardboard box to reveal a delicious treat.

8 lime-coconut cupcakes, their sparkly frosting glistening in the morning sun, made all of our stomachs yearn for a bite. Even Camilllie, our rations manager and the most responsible among us, couldn't help but take a cupcake like the rest of us and enjoy the sweet meal. I didn't really like coconut, but it was sugar. I hadn't had anything sugar since I entered the arena. We all sighed when we had finished, licking every last swirl of frosting and cake off of our fingers. There were 3 left, but they'd been Olivanna's gift, so she was going to keep them for now. I rudely thought about who would get the cupcakes when Olivanna died.

Olivanna found her note, nestled in the top of one of the cupcakes we'd neglected to eat. She pulled it out, using her finger to swipe the sweet frosting off of the paper before reading the smudged words on the slip.

 _Good job, Liv. You guys are doing great. S and C nearby in the jungle. - Calla_

Olivanna passed it around for us to read, and then we headed out to investigate on the beach. We danced around, making a scene, seeing if they would come out. S could be Serephina or Steale, I realized. And C could be Caitlin, Christopher, or Cephas...

"Get back, now," I hissed. "S and C. Its Serephina and Cephas."

Immediately we all froze and darted back into the mini jungle, huddling in the center clearing where we'd been sleeping for the past few days. We had a small lunch of jerky, and we passed the rest of the day talking about our lives. Catherine and I chatted about being twins and our parents, Olivanna mumbled some stuff about her parents and her brother Xavier and some friends back home. Hailea told us about her distant mother and horribly abusive sister, loud enough for the Gamemakers to hear, as if they'd do anything about it. And Camillie teared up, probably the first time I'd seen our strong leader-of-a-sort cry, as she talked about her little sister Wendie and her garden and her family. Then we played would you rather and truth or dare deep into the night.

Suddenly the sky was lit with silver lights as the anthem played. We eagerly tilted our heads up to the sky to see who had died.

 _Dameon Xaine, District 2 Male_

 _Christopher Tidesworth, District 4 Male_

 _Kiera Waters, District 4 Female_

 _Bianca Catalano, District 10 Female_

We had a mini little celebration, drinking more water and dancing a bit. Kiera and Dameon, gone! Sure, it wasn't Serephina or Cephas, but they'd scored 9s, and they were dead Day 3! I'd scored a 5, and I was still alive! Bianca had gotten an 8, but her death wasn't too surprising. And Christopher...it seemed like he should've been dead days ago.

We settled down to sleep, me taking first watch. I sighed as I watched my friends drift off to sleep as they curled up in the sand.

We were miracles waiting to happen.

 _..._

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medical kit. At the Cornucopia._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 9 arrows, spear, pack full of food and water, and a medical kit. At the Cornucopia._

 _Cameron Spark: Throwing knife, empty water bottle, and cooking pot. At smaller island IV._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle, jerky strips, night goggles, and iodine. At smaller island IV._

 _Emmer Schuliare: Mace, nunchucks, medical kit, empty water bottle, jerky strips, and iodine. At the Cornucopia_

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, and iodine. In the northern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, two throwing knives, and four mangoes. In the northern jungle._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium: Dagger, jerky strips, crackers, box of 3 coconut-lime cupcakes, and half full water bottle. At smaller island IV._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe,_ _Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. At the southern sand dunes_

 _Bethany Taylor: Pack with two throwing knives, crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. At the southern sand dunes_

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with rope and crackers, and a quart of water. At the southern sand dunes_

 _Andrea Matches: Sickle, Pack with crackers and night goggles. At the southern sand dunes_

 _Hailea Himalayan: Dagger, throwing knife, medicine, air-tight sealed meal of potatoes, steak, and gravy, full water bottle, Pack with rope, jerky, net, and crackers. At smaller island IV._

 _Camillie Montegro: Sickle, two daggers, empty medicine container, Pack with jerky, crackers, dried fruit, medical kit, rope, and empty water bottle. At smaller island_ _IV._

 _..._

 **A/N: So there's Day 3 part 2! We already have lost 10 tributes, and 14 are still kicking. But only one will be alive in a matter of days. Nothing has really changed, but here's just the kill list and the injuries list just as reminders.**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist)**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt, Kiera Waters**

 **Cameron Spark -**

 **Catherine Spark -**

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

 **Emmer Schuliare -**

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist)**

 **Olivanna Sanatorium -**

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

 **Bethany Taylor -**

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

 **Andrea Matches -**

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

 **Camillie Montegro -**

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano**

 **INJURIES**

 **Cephas Gold: Minor cut on left forearm from Christopher's throwing knife**

 **Caitlin Theardie: Minor cuts on legs from thorns of bushes on the sand dunes**

 **Andrea Matches: Slashed open thigh, bandaged and not major from Theodore's pitchfork**

 **Hailea Himalayan: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from Serephina's spear**

 **Camillie Montegro: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from snake-seal attack**

 **QUESTIONS  
**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV?**

 **3\. Anything special/interesting/memorable?**

 **4\. Thoughts on Steale and Caitlin's alliance/antics with the water bottle?**

 **5\. Thoughts on the Fab 4's betting game?**

 **6\. Predictions for you think will make the Top 8?  
**

 **Also, a shout-out to a reader and a submitter of this story. Bluffs (Chen's Creator) has a SYOT of his own up and running, and he still has 14 slots open. Because I feel bad and want him to get some more characters, go submit a tribute or two if you have the time!**

 **I honestly don't know how I was originally planning on having a 13-15 day Games. It will probably end up somewhere in the 7-10 day range max. I hope you're enjoying the story so far, more will be out within a week or so.**

 **And I've decided on my next SYOT: Underside, the 12th Hunger Games. It will be out in a few weeks as this nears its close, probably.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	21. Day 4: Pills n' Potions

**A/N: Here's Day 4! Again, sorry for the slower update time. Expect some more action today than there was in the latter parts of Day 3. Sorry if it isn't the longest chapter (it's actually rather short compared to the others), but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting, and it is 3,500+, so I hope that's good. Enjoy Day 4, and review with your thoughts about this chapter and the story so far as a whole!**

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"Now I knew being alone was terrible, deadly."_

Steale gently shook me awake. We were still in the tree at the edge of the jungle. Peering through the branches last night, I'd managed to make out the Young and Free's campsite through the scraggly bunch of trees surrounding it. I could shoot them all, end this Games so much quicker, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just couldn't. So I watched their blurry silhouettes until it seemed about half the night had passed. Then I woke Steale for his watch, and I'd uneasily fell asleep.

We were both parched beyond belief. Steale's throat was scratchy and his words almost a whisper. I wasn't that bad, but I was still thirsty. I could feel the early signs of dehydration. We learned about dehydration early on in school in 5. We were one of the most southernmost Districts of Panem, and in the summer, the blistering temperatures could kill you in a few days if you didn't have water on hand. My grandma tells me that's how the Capitol re-claimed 5 in the Dark Days; they cut off our water supply and let hundreds of us die from dehydration until we were begging for surrender so we could just touch a drop of water. The thought makes me shudder.

We check several of the water cup plants, but they've disappeared, apparently. They don't want us to chance drinking them for whatever reason, so they're gone. Maybe they don't want us to purify it or something. Whatever. We don't have a filter either way.

We walked through the forest, apprehensive, looking out for jaguars and duskfruit. After we'd been walking and searching for a while, around noon, a cannon spooked us both. Steale gave a little yelp and I ducked behind a tree.

BOOM!

Bianca crowded my mind, but I pushed the thought of her away. We neared the edge of the jungle, and I made a decision.

"Let's go steal water from the Cornucopia," I murmured. "It's the only way, and we both know it."

"It's suicide!" Steale grumbled. "The only chance we have is if they're gone hunting, and even then we're not good. They probably booby trapped it or something. They have your brainy District partner after all."

"Do you want to die of dehydration?" I hissed. "You've seen it on the Games. I've seen it back home in 5. It's heart wrenching and disgusting and terrible, one of the worst ways to die in my opinion. I'd rather die with an arrow through my eye courtesy of Serephina's bow than from dehydration. Your choice, Steale. Your choice."

"I'll come," he replied. "But we are not marching in there when they're there, okay?"

I nodded in agreement, and we crept through the dunes. Steale cursed a few times when brambles cut open his legs, but he quieted down once we neared the Cornucopia. It was open; they were all gone. We crept forward until we were close to the pedestals.

"Go ahead," I whispered.

"Aren't you coming?"

"I will."

"Oh, so I'm booby trap bait?"

"Maybe. Now shut the hell up and go get us water."

"Go get _you_ water. You'll probably kill me after I give it to you."

"Great idea, actually."

He stormed off. Just as he entered the mouth of the Cornucopia, a cannon went off.

BOOM!

Steale poked his head out. He was alive. Just as he started to walk out with two jugs of water, one in each hand, I spotted the remainders of Strong and Mighty returning to the Cornucopia. Steale scrambled inside the Cornucopia in fear as I hunkered down. I slowly made my way around the dunes, towards the southern jungle. Steale was dead meat. There was no way he was making it out of there alive. But, as an hour passed and I neared the southern jungle, no cannon came. Maybe they were torturing him. Fun.

I slipped into the jungle and climbed up the nearest tree. Sure enough, I found a water cup plant, and the water was clean. They'd just wanted us to move. Steale would still be safe if we'd just checked here first. I filled up on the water as day ever so surely faded into night. Alone again. I managed to keep my cool, and I fell asleep a few hours before midnight. I woke up to the anthem, saw who had died today, and promptly fell back to sleep, while screams echoed in the distance.

I was safe for another day.

...

 _ **Camillie Montegro, 15, District 12 Female**_

 _"Don't let her watch when they kill me."_

I had taken the last watch, so, as the sun glimmered over the horizon and rose fully, I poked my friends and allies, waking them up. They all grumbled and stretched in the sand, and I passed out our rations for this morning; some crackers and a single capful of water. I was the "leader", at least to them, because I was the oldest. Olivanna was also 15, but only a month so. I was turning 16 in three months.

After everyone had eaten and drank, Cameron started to complain that he was still thirsty. I forbade him from drinking anymore water, and he slouched out onto the beach, sitting there for a few hours. Soon, noon was rolling around. The girls and I had been playing tick tack toe in the sand, but I decided to go check on Cameron. As I walked out onto the beach, I saw him, wading over to the other side, struggling against the current.

"Cam!" I hissed, but he didn't hear me. I jumped into the water, slicing through the water as I swam vigorously to the other side. As I arrived at the beach, I spotted Cameron holding something. A water bottle.

"More water!" Cameron sang, opening the cap.

"Don't drink it-" I began, knowing a random bottle of water sitting on the beach was not a good sign. But the boy was tired and thirsty, and he tipped half the contents down his throat with a grin.

Seconds later he was in the sand, convulsing, and a few more seconds later, he was dead.

BOOM!

The girls jogged onto the beach to see Cameron lying several feet away from me, the water bottle clutched in his hand, his skin tinted magenta by whatever fast acting poison had filled and bloated his veins from the water. Catherine began to wail, loud and distraught. Soon she was screaming, screaming Cameron's name over and over and over.

"Shut up!" I howled at her as I swam back across. "They'll hear you, someone, anything. They'll kill us. Catherine, shut up."

"Cam," she sobbed, watching as the hovercraft descended to retrieve his corpse. "CAM! PLEASE! CAAAAAAAAAAM!"

I arrived on the beach, and I narrowed my eyes at her. I spotted movement in the jungle and I paled.

"Go. Now," I growled. "Olivanna, swim like your life depends on it and get as far away from here as you can. I'll get the supplies. Hail and Catherine, do you best. Now go, go, go!"

They listened, bursting off into the water. Hailea had her throwing knife and water, Catherine her sickle and her iodine, and Olivanna her dagger. That was it. I stood on the beach of the island, alone, for a moment, before I darted into the jungle and gathered supplies.

Then I spotted them. Cephas and Serephina tried to intercept the girls, who had made it into the jungle and were disappearing.

And then I saw Emmer, two feet behind me. He slammed his mace into my back, and I fell to the ground. He leaped on top of me, tearing my sickle from my hands and holding it only an inch above my throat as I protested.

"Sorry," he grunted.

"Sorry," I hissed. "Sorry?! I...you beast. You go with the monsters that train to slaughter us? Do you know that they think it's fine, _FUN,_ to kill innocent kids? Hmm? Do you enjoy killing innocents, too, like a psychopath? Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I have a little sister, barely 6. Every...every Wessday, as she calls Wednesdays, we go down to the garden we have behind our house. She'll be going alone now. She'll probably see you sever my throat. Will you delight in killing me now, Mr. Schuliare? Hmm?"

He looked down at me, stunned. The sickle slowly slipped from his grasp and fell into the sand. What I'd said had impacted him, I knew. I grinned and started to laugh, thinking I had survived this somehow, when Cephas appeared behind me.

"Problem?" Cephas asked Emmer as he walked over. He didn't even look me in the eyes as he brought his blade down on my throat. Goddamn coward.

BOOM!

...

 ** _Holly Burnett, 16, District 8 Female_**

 _"Suddenly, all around me, was gunfire and the whirring of sirens..."_

Two cannons, in the early afternoon. Two of them, which meant we were down to the Top 12. Halfway through this hellish Game, halfway through. Only 11 more cannons, 11 more people struggling to stay alive. Then I could go home and fall into the arms of Carla, and Leah, and Mom. I could be home. I closed my eyes, grinning, as I though about home. Our humble, haphazard third floor apartment, barely big enough for the lot of us and always bustling and filled with noise. Leah always seemed to have a friend or two over no matter the hour, Carla was always typing away at a laptop she'd bought with a fraction of her worker's salary, and Mom was cooking and cleaning and yelling good naturedly at Leah's friends that the oven was NOT as safe place to hide in during hide and seek. The thoughts were wonderful, intoxicating. Home. I wanted to go home.

I was woken from my reverie a couple of hours after noon, after the cannons, when Bethany poked me.

"Come on, join the fun! You've been sitting their like a bump on a log for the past hour!"

Andi and Chen were dancing in the little open square of sand behind the pile of logs that hid us from sight. Bethany joined them again, and Chen spun her around, quick and able. He was sure a good dancer. He dipped her, and their lips brushed, and then they were kissing every time they passed each other in the dance. I hesitantly joined in, and then we were spinning. I was dancing with Andi, which was a little strange, but not terribly weird. Then we switched partners, and Chen's strong hands rested on my hips as we spun around. He was cute, admittedly, but there was no time for petty crushes in the Games. Either way, he'd already made out with Bethany half a dozen times, and I wouldn't be too surprised if they'd gone...further. That thought made me slow down a little, but then we switched partners and everything left my mind as Bethany and I zig zagged around the sandy clearing.

We were laughing uproariously by the time we were all tired out. Something felt wrong about it, and I suddenly realized we'd been making a racket. Someone must've heard us. The sun had left the sky only an hour ago, and we started to prepare for sleep, the jubilant smiles still plastered on our faces.

"Predictions?" Andi asked loudly as curled up in the sand. "I'd say Steale and Cameron."

"Cameron and Catherine," Chen piped.

"Serephina and Cephas," Bethany murmured hopefully. We all chuckled.

"I'll go with Camillie and Emmer," I said, naming two random tributes once again.

As the time neared for the anthem and the faces of the dead to flash across the sky, we were still making a racket, Andi most of all as she cackled at jokes and even began to sing at one point. I was on guard, and then I saw the far off movement. Two blots, darker than the night, were moving towards us.

"Shut up," I hissed. "Come on, we gotta move. It's the Strong and Mighty, I think."

Andi quickly shut up, and they packed up our supplies. I started to lead, slinking ever so slowly across the sand. Andi freaked and burst into a full out sprint, tripping over a log before keeping on her way. She veered away from us, and then towards us as we picked up the pace, heading towards the menacing jungle not too far ahead. I heard the soft whoosh of an arrow leaving its bowstring as we neared the edge of the jungle, and then I heard Andi's strangled scream. No cannon. Suddenly Andi blundered out of the darkness, moaning in pain. An arrow was sticking out of her side, and she was pale, too pale. Even I could tell that in the darkness.

As we tried to get Andi to walk, the anthem began overhead and the faces played. Cameron and Camillie. I'd gotten one right. There'd been no winner today, though only Bethany had been totally off the mark. Fear coursed through my veins as Camillie's face left the sky, and the next day, a day that would be full of despair, pain, and fear, began.

...

 _ **Steale Boeing, 16, District 6 Male**_

 _"Have you ever realized that these stars are nothing like those in the real night sky?"_

Fear. Fear, a disgusting, disheartening emotion. Its sickly presence in my head and in my veins was the only thing I could conceivably remember since I'd slunk into the Cornucopia several hours ago. Dusk had come and went, and the darkness was starting to fully settle. I had wedged myself behind two crates, and I'd picked up a wickedly sharp machete. I had no idea how to wield it properly, but goddamit, my knives wouldn't help me now. I needed something bigger, stronger, to just hold off the attacks long enough so I wouldn't be pegged as a coward, as a nothing. Tears pooled in my eyes but I wiped them away. _No, Steale. This isn't over yet. You can still make it out alive._

Soon after they touched back at base camp, two or three hours before dusk, Serephina and Cephas had left to go find more innocent kiddos to slaughter, leaving Emmer on guard. He'd been sitting, alone, by a fire several dozen feet from the mouth of the Cornucopia. But he seemed to get bored of throwing little twigs into the flames, so he started to take inventory of all of the supplies in the Cornucopia. Dammit.

I steadied my breathing and then made it nearly silent as he crept closer and closer, clucking his tongue whenever he finished counting something. Dried fruit. _Cluck._ Crackers. _Cluck._ Jerky. _Cluck._ Swords. _Cluck?_ Gallons of water. A sharp intake of breath.

I heard the anthem start to play as he picked up his nunchucks and inspected the area around him for the intruder, for _me._ I squeezed my eyes shut. I could try to escape, to fight him. But he'd kill me, make it look like self defense even if it wasn't. It was my only chance.

As the anthem died, I leaped up, raising my machete. Emmer said one word as the days switched.

"Stop."

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medicine. At the southern sand dunes_

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 8 arrows, spear, and pack full of food and water. At the southern sand dunes_

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle and iodine. In the northern jungle._

 _Emmer Schuliare: Mace, nunchucks, medical kit, empty water bottle, jerky strips, and iodine. At the Cornucopia_

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, and iodine. In the southern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, two throwing knives, machete, four mangoes, and a gallon of water. At the Cornucopia._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium: Dagger. In the northern jungle._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe,_ _Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. At the southern sand dunes/entering southern jungle_

 _Bethany Taylor: Pack with two throwing knives, crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. At the southern sand dunes/entering southern jungle_

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with rope and crackers, and a quart of water. At the southern sand dunes/entering southern jungle_

 _Andrea Matches: Sickle, Pack with crackers and night goggles. At the southern sand dunes/entering southern jungle_

 _Hailea Himalayan: Throwing knife and water bottle. In the northern jungle._

...

 **A/N: Yay, more action and more killing! Congrats to the Top 12: Cephas, Serephina, Catherine, Emmer, Caitlin, Steale, Olivanna, Chen, Bethany, Holly, Andrea, and Hailea! Oh, and the title might seem weird, but the pills are the medicine Cephas receives, and the potions is the tainted water Cameron drinks, which leads to his speedy death. Here are the obituaries:**

 **OBITUARIES**

 **14th: Cameron Spark, District 3 Male - Drank duskfruit-poisoned water set out by Steale Boeing, District 6 Male**

 **We all knew Cameron's end was nearing. He was okay to write, but he was the lesser and more annoying twin in the Spark pair, so he went first for a long list of reasons. He sort of got rude towards the end and pessimistic, even though that was supposed to be Catherine's role, and he was supposed to be the happy one who was stronger and kinder. So yeah, Scar-the-Beta-Wolf, I sort of messed up your twins. Sorry. Anyway, they were both destined by their submitter to die Day 2, but I held on to him for a while longer than suggested. My condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Spark and our dearest Catherine, he will rest in peace. Sadly, he couldn't die protecting his sister. Again, Scar, thanks for a good pair of tributes, and I'm sorry he had to go. At least you still have Catherine! :)**

 **13th: Camillie Montegro, District 12 Female - Sword to the throat by Cephas Gold, District 1 Male**

 **Oh, dear, dear Camillie. I loved you, sweetheart. Intended to be a bumbling, useless gardening bloodbath you were, but when I wrote your chapter with Wendie and all it just broke my heart, and you got a positive response from practically everyone, so I knew I had to keep you for a while. I LOVED writing you, but I couldn't kill off other people's tributes any longer and keep one of my own and keep a clean conscience, so I had to kill you off. If you hadn't been my lovely creation, I would have taken you so much farther, but alas, it was not to be. I am so deathly sorry to Mr. and Mrs. Montegro, as well as little Wendie. Tend the garden together every Wessday *sobs in corner* Damn I'm getting attached to these characters. I need to stop making such nice bloodbaths. ;) Anyway, I loved you Camillie. Rest in peace, darling, and know you sacrificed yourself for the others. I'll miss you forever.**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt, Kiera Waters**

Cameron Spark -

 **Catherine Spark -**

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

 **Emmer Schuliare -**

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark**

 **Olivanna Sanatorium -**

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

 **Bethany Taylor -**

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

 **Andrea Matches -**

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano**

 **INJURIES**

 **Cephas Gold: Minor cut on left forearm from Christopher's throwing knife**

 **Caitlin Theardie: Minor cuts on legs from thorns of bushes on the sand dunes**

 **Steale Boeing:** **Minor cuts on legs from thorns of bushes on the sand dunes**

 **Andrea Matches: Slashed open thigh, bandaged and not major from Theodore's pitchfork, arrow to the side from Serephina's bow, untreated and major**

 **Hailea Himalayan: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from Serephina's spear**

 **ALLIANCE UPDATE**

 **Young and Free: Catherine, Olivanna, and Hailea**

 **Strong and Mighty: Serephina, Cephas, and Emmer**

 **Fabulous 4: Andi, Chen, Bethany, and Holly**

 **Loners (not an alliance): Steale and Caitlin**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV?**

 **3\. Anything surprising/interesting?**

 **4\. Thoughts on today's deaths?**

 **5\. Who are your 4 least favorite remaining tributes?**

 **Soon enough, I'll be turning out the next SYOT, Underside, the 12th Hunger Games. I think when we get to the Final 4, I'll put it out there. Also, I might put out the Quell idea I talked about in an earlier chapter. I'm undecided, but I'll figure it out soon. Thank you to all our readers, and again, congrats to these Top 12 qualifiers and their submitters: Cephas and Bethany (ThomasHungerGamesFan), Emmer and Caitlin (Platrium), Andrea (glittergirl20), Steale (Maveriqua), Catherine (Scar-the-Beta-Wolf), Hailea and Olivanna (I Read To Escape The World), Holly (skyheart033), Chen (Bluffs), and Serephina (strange and proud of it).**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	22. Day 5: Loyalty and Betrayal

**A/N: Here's Day 5! I'm so sorry it's been a while, I've had writer's block for this story, and I've also been working on some of my other stories (go check them out!). I've also been doing Camp Nanowrimo, where you attempt to write a novel. So yeah. I've had a lot. But I'll definitely finish this story, though I'm sad to say Underside will be postponed for a small time after Oceanside wraps up, just because I need things to settle down a little bit. Underside should be up by the end of July worst case, but no promises, it might be earlier or later. Now, enjoy Day 5. It isn't a super long chapter, but I just wanted to get something to you guys. Enjoy! :)**

...

 _ **Bethany Taylor, 16, District 7 Female**_

 _"Hopefully this social butterfly could stretch her wings and make it out of the Games."_

The jungle air was humid and oppressive, clinging to me and pushing down on all sides. I barely managed to take in full breaths as Holly, Chen, and myself pulled a whimpering Andrea through the undergrowth and deep into the jungle. Birds flitted above us, squawking and ruffling their feathers. I spotted a few bright blue frogs perched on a nearby branch. They seemed poisonous, and I ignored them. Vines hung from some of the trees, and holes in the canopies revealed the dark, fabricated night sky glimmering above us.

"Slow...slow down," Andi wheezed. We did so, and we kept jogging until we were sufficiently deep into the jungle. Chen and Holly let go of Andi, and I eased her to the forest floor with careful, practiced hands. I stroked her head as she moaned in pain.

Chen ventured off into the jungle to look for things. We had most of our supplies, but Chen hadn't managed to grab his pack. And in that pack was our only medical supplies, a half used roll of bandages. Then I suddenly remembered I had _something,_ and I tore open my backpack a retrieved it.

The band aid was large and square, but it would only cover a third of her wound. I tried to peel back her shirt to apply it, but she just moaned and kicked and even screamed. I stopped then. Andi was panting, but if she wouldn't quiet down Serephina and Cephas would find us, and she and the rest of us would die.

I peered at the injury and immediately recoiled. The arrow had mostly broken off while we'd been running, though the arrowhead and about two inches of the shaft of the arrow were buried in her side. I knew removing the arrow would be a terrible move, and she'd just bleed out quicker.

"You know how to stitch wounds, Holly, correct?" I asked her as I examined Andi's wound as she groaned uncomfortably.

"Yeah, but we don't have a needle or any type of wire or thread." We both looked up at the sky expectantly for something for a couple of minutes, but nothing came. Andi must not have enough sponsor money. I almost opened my mouth to tell Oakes to spend my sponsor money, too. I knew I had a lot, from cuddling with Chen and my 8 from training. But Holly shot me a look, and I knew what she was communicating. Andi was a good friend, but was I really going to sacrifice a majority of my funds to buy a needle and thread, when I might need the sponsor money to survive later down the road in the Games? I looked down at Andi. Her fingers were weakly scrabbling at the arrow still stuck in her side.

"Andi, stop!" I yelled, trying to pry her fingers off of the arrow, but it was too late. She'd pulled the arrow from her side, and the blood leaked out like a river onto the forest floor. Andi screeched her head off, and I cried. Chen returned and saw Andi, who was quickly blanching and dying. He tore off his shirt and pushed me aside, pressing it to her side, but it was too late. Andi's eyes were wide open and glossy. She was already half gone.

"I just wanted the pain to stop," she gasped, and then she slumped to the ground, her eyes blank and lifeless.

BOOM!

My heart wrenching scream reverberated through the forest. The parrots in the trees around us swiftly take flight, and I began to sob. Holly pulled me away from Andi's body as Chen took her pack before closing her eyelids. I wailed louder. How were they so emotionless? How did my lover and my good friend so easily abandon Andi's corpse without a second glance, silencing me and barely showing any emotion at all? How?! I saw tears glimmering in Holly's eyes, and I realized I'd been voicing what I'd been thinking. I'd just called her cold hearted, emotionless. Chen took me in his arms and clamped his strong, sweaty hand over my mouth to silence my rueful cries. He carried me and we stopped once my crying had ceased.

We'd reached the southern beach, and he set me down. My tears had dried up, although I still sobbed without the waterworks. Chen calmed me and tried to kiss me, but I rolled away. No. He cannot be so normal, so comforting, when he did nothing but take her supplies and abandon her body to rot! I saw the hovercraft touch down to pick up her body, and that calmed me a bit. She'll be fine, she'll be going home. No one can get her now.

I quieted down as the sun rises, and I fell asleep in the warm sand as the sun filled the sky.

.

I woke up to the sound of Chen's even breathing in my ear. My eyes slowly opened, and I rubbed the grime of sleep from them and looked around. Night was closing in; I'd slept most of the day away. Holly sat on a boulder a dozen feet down the beach, acting as a lookout, while Chen and I slept. I quietly slipped from Chen's strong arms and stood, walking over to Holly.

"Any more cannons?" I asked her.

"Nope," she said. She held a sickle in her hands, almost glaring at it. Andi's sickle. I bit my lip but didn't respond. I didn't tear up, either. I'd gotten over that.

Andi was a great friend, sure, but she can't be worried about in the Games. She was gone. She was going to have to die anyway. Holly and Chen will need to die, too, if I want to go home. And no matter of selfless or in love the Capitol might perceive me to be, I wouldn't hesitate at the end of these Games to cut both of them down. My resolve hardened, and I managed a weak smile as night blanketed the arena, the anthem and faces not too far away.

I could do this.

...

 _ **Emmer Schuliare, 15, District 5 Male**_

 _"Algebra is better than spear fighting."_

"Stop," I said. Steale slowly and hesitantly lowered his machete, looking at me strangely, fear alight in his eyes.

I lowered my nunchucks, too. I only had so much time to do this before Cephas and Serephina came back.

I'd been thinking about deserting them ever since we killed Camillie. The words she said...I was in cahoots with monsters. Serephina had a human side, at least, but I haven't seen anything besides the desire for glory and fame in Cephas, though I might have be wrong about him, too. Staying with them was a good tactic, but I felt like they'd be stabbing me in the back soon enough.

"Do you want to be allies? We can escape," I murmured.

"S-sure," Steale muttered. That was fast. I extended my hand to shake his, but then the machete was raised and he was slicing it across my stomach. I wailed in pain, looking down as a thin, shallow red smile appeared across my stomach. Steale pushed me to the ground, grabbing a gallon of water a shoving it in his pack. He then threw the machete on the ground, kicking me to make sure I stay on the ground. I couldn't even speak, not to mention stand and fight back. The pain was too intense.

He grabbed packets of food and water and stuffed them in the pack. Then he nabbed a nylon strap and strapped the machete to his back along with the pack. He also picked up a few throwing knives and sprinted away from the Cornucopia.

I laid there for several of hours until Serephina and Cephas returned. The sun began to rise as they returned. I'd managed to grab an extra t shirt and press it to my wound. It wasn't serious by any means, but I needed to clean and heal it, bandage it. I was just working up the courage to crawl over to the bandages on the other side of the mouth of the Cornucopia when my allies returned.

"Fell asleep?" Cephas chuckled. I could see a silvery vial in his hand; the medicine he'd received yesterday. He was travelling with it, and now that medicine was taunting me, promising me it would heal me if Cephas would spare some of it.

"Wounded, asshole," I grunted, lifting up the bloody t shirt to expose my cut.

"Who did that?" Serephina asked, starting to go help me, but Cephas grabbed her arm, and she stood back up uncomfortably.

"Chen," I lied.

"No he didn't, dumbo," Cephas chortled. "We were just chasing him and his girlfriend and their little friends, and we even got one before they went in the jungle. They'll get themselves killed by something or other."

So that was the cannon I'd heard through the haze of pain a while ago.

"Did the 12 year olds try to kill you and plunder our supplies?" I shook my head. "That weakling from 6?" When I didn't respond, he laughed outright, doubling over. Serephina glared at him, annoyed, but she seemed scared of him. Sure, she'd scored higher than Cephas, but Cephas was tougher and more ruthless. He could beat either of us one-on-one if he tried hard enough. At least, that was the way it seemed to me.

"So Steale Boeing almost killed you. Have fun dying, kid," he laughed. "Me and Sere are gonna go hunt down your little attacker, alright?"

He seemed sort of sadistic, sarcastic. Usually he was sort of blank, agreeable. Cephas Gold was rightfully scaring me, and he might scare me to death.

Cephas strode off, and Serephina called out she was going to grab a new spear, the her current one was dented or something. She quickly knelt beside me, grabbing a first aid kit. She smiled sadly, telling me to patch myself up and book it.

"You're a great kid, Emmer. But he's gonna kill you soon, and we both know it. Fix yourself up and get the hell away from here. Go in the hotel, we've searched there recently and we won't go back for a while. Of course, you don't have to trust me. But do." She winked and awkwardly squeezed my hand before grabbing a new spear and sprinting off to join Cephas.

I sat in the Cornucopia for a bit in shock. After an hour had passed, I got my act together and managed to stand. I wrapped gauze around my abdomen after going through the painful process of cleaning it. I filled a pack with medical supplies, food, and water, and I grabbed my nunchucks, leaving my clunky mace in the Cornucopia. I wouldn't be able to run fast with that thing.

I rested up just a bit longer, and then I made a mad dash towards the hotel. I ran through the sand, into the dunes, ignoring the brambles that bit at my legs. I passed through the pools and bars, and then I was inside the dusty, dirty lobby of the hotel. I found the stairwell and booked it to one of the upper floors. I set up camp in a cramped bedroom with a rotting bed and nothing else besides a window that overlooked the Cornucopia. I settled in as the hours passed and night finally arrived. Serephina and Cephas never returned, but I didn't hear any cannons. They were hunting deep into the night, apparently.

I curled up on the creaky, moth eaten mattress and slowly fell asleep.

 _..._

 _ **Hailea Himalayan, 12, District 11 Female**_

 _"I'd killed someone."_

We sat in the clearing, silent and somber. Catherine's eyes were bloodshot, drying tears littering her rosy cheeks. She kept mumbling Cameron's name under her breath over and over again. Olivanna was shocked silent. She could not believe, at all, that we'd lost Camillie, the strongest one among us, along with Cameron, the previous day.

It was around noon. Several hours before sunrise, a cannon had gone off, rousing all of us from our fitful sleep. I began to shake as I remembered Cameron's bloated, poisoned corpse falling into the hot sand, and Camillie holding the Strong and Mighty off so we could make it away. Tears were dripping down my face before I could stop them, and I wept openly and freely. Neither Olivanna or Catherine comforted me. They were locked in their own sadness.

I guess the Gamemakers got annoyed with our tearful pity party, because about an hour later a jaguar mutt appeared in the clearing, growling and slinking towards us. I screamed, and grabbed my throwing knife and water bottle and ran, Olivanna on my heels. Catherine cowered for a moment before gaining common sense and scampering up a tree. The jaguar circled Catherine's tree while Olivanna and I escaped unscathed, although Catherine was separated from us. We ran for an hour until we were on the other side of the jungle. We sat down, and my stomach rumbled, but we had nothing. We had my water bottle, and Olivanna and I took sips from it to sate our thirst. Both Olivanna and myself were accustomed to hunger, but it was still painful.

We talked and played games and things like that to distract ourselves. We crawled up into a tree as the sun began to set and prepared to go to sleep. Olivanna fell asleep, but woke up when the anthem began. We both looked up and saw the single face; Andrea from 9. We'd both been hoping it was one of the Strong and Mighty. Since only Andi's face was in the sky, Catherine had managed to survive the jaguar attack some way or another.

Suddenly, as Andi's face faded from the sky, I heard a war cry below. I looked down to see a gleeful, grinning Cephas, chuckling, holding a spear Serephina handed him. Olivanna and I both screamed as Andi's face left the sky and another day, the 6th, began.

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medicine. In the northern jungle._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 8 arrows, spear, and pack full of food and water. In the northern jungle._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle and iodine. On northern island IV._

 _Emmer Schuliare: Nunchucks and pack full of food, water, and a medical kit. In the Hotel, Floor 9, Room 9BC_

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, and iodine. In the southern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, six throwing knives, machete, 5 packets of dried fruit, and a gallon of water. In one of the bars in the pool-bar area by the hotel._

 _Olivanna Sanatorium: Dagger. In the northern jungle._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe,_ _Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. At the southern beach._

 _Bethany Taylor: Two throwing knives, pack with crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. At the southern beach._

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with rope and crackers, and a quart of water. At the southern beach._

 _Hailea Himalayan: Throwing knife and water bottle. In the northern jungle._

...

 **A/N: So yes, it's not super long. There's only 3 alliances and that makes up most of the tributes, so I just did 3 POVs. And I was debating adding more kills, but I put up a poll instead to see who you want to win, so go vote! Those with the least votes will die soon, and those with the most with probably last longer. Now, for the obituary:**

 **12th: Andrea Matches, District 9 Female - Arrow to the side by Serephina Manchas, District 2 Female, and bleeding out**

 **Andi, you were a nice girl and a nice character, but you were the weakest link in your alliance. One of you needed to go, and it ended up being you, sadly. I liked you, and you were my 2nd submission (Bianca was the 1st). I was attached to you because of that. I liked you, and you were decent to write, and your family struggles were interesting, something a lot of tributes in this Games didn't have. You were a nice character, Andi, and you will be missed by your friends, who are now the Trifecta without you :). My condolences to your mom, Natalia, and your little sis Mia. I'm so sorry, Mia, that you're alone with your abusive father and wicked stepmother Greta. *uses magical author powers to give Natalia one of the best jobs in 9 so she can take custody of Mia and support her and love her well* :). Thanks for the character, glittergirl20. She was a good one.**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt, Kiera Waters, Andrea Matches**

Cameron Spark -

 **Catherine Spark -**

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

 **Emmer Schuliare -**

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark**

 **Olivanna Sanatorium -**

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

 **Bethany Taylor -**

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

Andrea Matches -

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano**

 **INJURIES**

 **Emmer Schuliare: Intermediate cut across stomach, bandaged and treated**

 **Hailea Himalayan: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from Serephina's spear**

 **ALLIANCE UPDATE**

 **Young and Free's Bigger Piece: Olivanna and Hailea**

 **Strong and Mighty: Serephina and Cephas**

 **The Trifecta: Chen, Bethany, and Holly**

 **Loners (not an alliance): Steale, Caitlin, Catherine, and Emmer**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV?**

 **3\. Anything interesting/surprising?**

 **4\. Thoughts on split of Strong and Mighty?**

 **5\. How's the actual writing? Is it terrible, decent, or good? Please answer this one out of the 5, this is the one I want to know most.**

 **Thanks for reading, as always. You guys are great, and please review! Oh, and please go vote in the poll! If you don't, your favorites might die sometime soon...**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	23. Day 6: Up and Down

**A/N: Here's Day 6! There's some death this chapter, but don't expect this to be wrapped up by Day 8. Not every day in the Hunger Games has death, so future chapters might have death. Not revealing which ones though ;). Now, enjoy Day 6 of the 10th Annual Hunger Games, and please review if possible!**

...

 _ **Catherine Spark, 12, District 3 Female**_

 _"We were survivors."_

The warm sand of the beach beneath me comforted me, almost making me fall asleep, but I couldn't do that. I needed to stay awake, stay on lookout for the nasty Strong and Mighty alliance or more of those jaguar mutts. I shivered at the thoughts of jaguars.

The creature that had attacked us had had dried blood staining its maw and yellowing fangs. It had killed someone before us. Either Dameon, Kiera, Christopher, Andrea, or Bianca. Or maybe the blood was just there to scare us. Anyway, Hail and Liv had ran, leaving me to scramble up in the tree. Instead of going after me, the godforsaken mutt had circled the tree. I'd gotten lucky, being able to slice off one of its ears when it tried to jump up to my branch. That made it back away, and when it tried again, I sliced off part of its nose. It retreated after that. I had jumped down, looking for Liv and Hail, but not shouting their names. That would attract the jaguar back. I didn't find them, and then a cannon fired, and I could hear nearby screams. So I ran north, to the beach, and managed to wade back to the island. As I'd predicted, Cephas, Emmer, and Serephina had left a majority of the supplies on the island after they killed Camillie. Right now I was snacking on some food that had been in Hailea's pack. I was back to the place where we'd all been together. Now, it was just me, Liv, and Hail, although the screams I'd heard during the cannon were probably from one or both of them, so it was probably me and one or the other still alive. Bison, Camillie, Cameron, and either Liv or Hail were dead. I just sighed and laid back into the sand.

Around noon, I saw a large, multi colored cloud ascend from the canopies of the trees. The...parrots? Suddenly they started making loud squawking noises, and they divided themselves into numerous groups before flying off in different directions, their loud calls annoying and high pitched. One swarm headed towards the giant hotel, one towards the pools and bars, one to the Cornucopia, two to the southern jungle, two to the northern jungle, and one that was heading straight for me. I sighed, grabbing my supplies and running to the center of the island.

I hid most of my supplies under some bushes so the parrots couldn't get them. Then I brandished by sickle around as they dive bombed me, sharp beaks snapping hungrily. I didn't kill any and I only injured a few, but the constant motion of my sickle managed to keep them from tearing out chunks of my flesh.

One managed to grab a strand of my hair, and that was enough. I ran around, zigzagging through the clearing, before sprinting out to the beach they were slower, and I jumped into the ocean, holding myself under in the shallow, lukewarm water. They didn't dare go in the water, though they picked at the floating tresses of hair. I then shot up and knocked my weapon into two of them, watching as blood poured from their tiny, feathery bodies and they fell into the water, painting it red. I quickly dashed out of the water, expecting the parrots to follow me. But they didn't. Instead, they all flew towards the ceiling of the arena and disappeared, along with all of the other parrots in the arena. Good thing they were gone.

I settled in and snacked on the plentiful amounts of food still left at our old camp. It was lonely, sure, and I might be one of the last members of the Young and Free, but it's better off that way. Now, I don't have to kill any of my friends. Others will do that for me, thankfully.

Finally, night begins to settle. A face flashes in the sky, a face of one of my old allies, as expected. As the girl's face leaves the sky ever so slowly, I hear a far off roar, but I ignore it, deciding to finally rest. I curl up in the clearing at the center of the island and doze off.

...

 _ **Chen Evoncurst, 17, District 7 Male**_

 _"I wasn't in love, not yet, but I liked her a lot."_

The trees rise around me, so much different from the steamy, vine riddled ones that lay at the end of the beach nearby. I can hear the far off whistle of a Peacekeeper, signaling the workday is done. I sigh in relief, letting the axe fall from my hands. I rub my sore, muscled arms as Spruce walks to my side, grinning. I smile back, and we make our way back into the heart of 7, to meet Terry and Rose and Grace. Spruce kissed Grace on the lips and Terry and Rose held hands in a way only cousins could. And I stood between them all, and then there were strong hands on my shoulders; my father. I grinned up at him, and then there was a loud bang waking me from my lovely dream.

I sit up, tugging Bethany up with me. She murmurs, rubbing her eyes as I look around, frightened.

"It's all good, Chen," Holly mutters sleepily. "Care taking rest of the watch?"

I shake my head slowly, standing. Bethany complains but I kiss her on the lips, and I murmur my adoration for her. We meet eyes and something settles in her.

"We need to talk in the morning," she whispers before turning over in the sand and dozing off.

I have no idea what we "need to talk about." Maybe it's time we break off this relationship before it becomes too serious. Maybe she wants us to abandon Holly. Maybe...I stop thinking as I climb onto the lookout rock. No point in wondering, I'll probably never guess it anyway. Women are confusing that way.

I stay awake for a majority of the night, looking up at the star spattered sky while a light breeze rolls off of the ocean. I even dip my feet in the water wake me up around two or three in the morning, something too early in the day. Around five ish, Bethany wakes up, looking frail and tired and older than she was before. Something is weighing her down. Probably reality. I kiss her softly, but she doesn't return the kiss. She starts to cry as I stop kissing her. Our lips are touching, but just touching, not doing anything else. She weeps and weeps and weeps and I hold her, trying to comfort her.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispers. "I'm going to miss you so much. I need to tell you things, Chêne." The way she coos my pet name makes a single tear leak out of my own eye. I bury my face in her shoulder as she begins to speak.

"I almost love you. Love is a frail word and I probably will never really know its true meaning, but I'm going to call this love because at least one of our lives is going the end in about a week, and we should enjoy what we have right now, my baby. So I'm going to say it. Are you ready? I love you, Chen Evoncurst. You make me want to sing and dance and scream and cry. I love you."

The words leave my lips before I even can think them up fully. "I love you more. You are a beautiful girl, the most exquisite thing I've ever seen. I LOVE you, Beth. You are mine, and you'll live in my soul forever. Whoever makes it out of this will remember the other. I'm telling one of us will make it out of this, Beth. I don't care if its you or me. We'd both want to go home. We both have lives and people back home."

"I don't think I do anymore," she murmurs. She leans in close, looking around like she hopes no one will hear. "I think they left with the wanderers."

I pale but I don't push her away, don't shun her. The wanderers are a small group of rebels outside of the northern Districts like 7 and 9 that live outside of the Capitol's control. One look between us shows that this is the weight she's been carrying. She has nothing left to go back to besides an empty house and her friends, and we both know that's not enough to support her after the terror of the Games. Oakes could help. I tell her that but she shakes her head.

"They're probably already dead," she mutters. "That's why they left, because they thought I would die and they were lost. I hope they left Yetta and Panema with the Krensen's instead of leaving with them. My...my little sisters can't be dead. Promise you'll take care of them when you get back."

"I will, Bethany Taylor. I will do anything you ask."

We share one look, and then I'm on top of her, and we're kissing and the rest of the night passes in a lovely blur. The sun rises over the ocean, and we share one more kiss before waking up Holly. She looks at our lopsided, goofy grins and just rolls her eyes, saying she doesn't want to know what happened.

The day passes quicker than the others have. Bethany and I share hungry kisses while Holly just watches on with rolling eyes, sarcastic comments, and a light smile on her face. We're happy. Is it wrong? We've all survived past the halfway mark of the Games, only 7 others are left in these wretched Games. We're nearing the end, although we're not quite there yet.

About midday, a swarm of mutlicolored parrots descends on us. I fend them off with my axe, Holly at my side, wielding her sickle. A silvery parachute drops through the cloud of parrots, dispersing them. They flock to the crest of the arena, where they disappear in midair. The parachute lands in Bethany's shaking hands, and she opens is to reveal a gleaming hatchet. We grin and Holly congratulates her. Now we're all armed with our weapons of our choice.

We have the advantage now. We have the odds with us now. We have a chance.

I'm almost sure one of us will come out Victorious.

...

 _ **Aenea Chariton, 29, Head Gamemaker**_

 _"The clamor that was about to ensue would be deliciously interesting."_

"I think they left with the wanderers," Bethany murmurs into her District partner and boyfriend's ear. I pale and immediately prepare myself for the inevitable; a visit from President Snow.

Just as expected, a half hour later President Snow storms into the Control Center, roaring my name. I shake as I follow him out of the Control Center. My underlings stare at me, confused. Why am I scared? Head Gamemaker is one of the most prominent positions in Panem. I hold sway, I hold power. I rule the Control Center. They don't understand that the President is the one who appoints me, the one who funds my projects, the one who must approve EVERYTHING. I have no real power. I keep the tears at bay, twirling my red-gold hair around my finger as a nervous sweat breaks out on my forehead.

We enter an empty conference room, and President Snow slams the door shut. I cower in the corner. I am a powerful woman, I remind myself. I am a lion. But if I am a lion, this man is a lion hunter, gunning down all of those with power, taking it all for himself.

"YOU SAID SHE WAS NOT RELATED TO REBELS, AENEA PHOEBE CHARITON! YOU PROMISED ME, AND I TRUSTED YOU! YOU SHOULD _DIE_ FOR THIS, YOU SNAKE!"

The word hypocrite appears in the forefront of my mind, but I push it away. This is not a time for being snippy, sarcastic, powerful. This is a time to grovel, to beg, to plead for my life.

"She was strong. I didn't want you to blow her up at the beginning. She and her boyfriend have been one of the most entertaining pieces in our Games."

"She...I would've sent in an Avox instead. I need to know more about these 'wanderers'. I've checked back in 7; her little sisters were dropped off at the orphanage six days ago, and Blanche Taylor and Ryder Taylor did not show up to work on the next day. There's no point in interrogating the little girls, and they have no other alive family. I NEED that girl, Aenea. You must get her out of there alive."

Snow storms out, and I gulp. My Games will be ruined because I must have this Bethany girl win. I sigh and begin to think, and then I have the greatest idea.

Maybe she doesn't have to win after all.

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, District 2 Female**_

 _"It's nice to know that I'll have something else impressive beside my title as Victor."_

As that Andrea girl from 9's face disappears from the sky, Cephas heaves the spear forward. The little girl from 11, Hayley or Halla or something like that, squeals and climbs high up into the thin upper branches of the tree. Meanwhile, the older girl, from 6 I think, named Olivanna, I remember her, screams bloody murder as the spear finishes its fight, smashing right into her abdomen. She gives a weak wail, and the girl from 11 sobs as she swings over to the next tree, trying to escape. I lift my bow and train my arrow on the girl. I can't take my eyes off of the large tears rolling down her cheeks, the fear filling her round eyes, all caused by ME. My eyes fill with tears, and I wipe them away as I lift the bow. Just as I did when shooting at that Andrea girl during the bloodbath, just as I did throwing a spear at this girl at the bloodbath, too, something inside makes me miss her. It scrapes across her elbow. She shrieks but hope glimmers in her eyes. She disappears in the trees, and she's gone. I let out a relieved breath. A cannon booms. I look up at the girl from 6, Olivanna. Her body is slumped, cold, dead. I retrieve the spear from her body as Cephas looks on with crossed arms.

"What the hell was that? How in the world did you earn an 11 there, Serephina? You can't KILL a little girl?!" He cackles, and I sour, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I did this to honor my brother, you dweeb. I didn't do this for the riches or the fame or the women, like you. I did this to bring the honor back to the Manchas name. I didn't do it so all the hot Capitols would be throwing themselves and wads of cash at me. I did this for others, not myself. I do not like killing. I do not like this. But honor is more important in 2 than you could ever understand."

Cephas just laughs, and that sadistic look he got when he found Emmer, wounded, in the Cornucopia, comes to life in his eyes. I try to flinch away, but his fist is already in my face. I cry out, staggering and falling backwards against a tree. Blood gushes from my nose, and I narrow my eyes at him, wiping the blood from my face as I stand.

"Effing coward," I hiss. "If you want to get the job done right, you break my neck, not my nose."

He sees my own broken, devious self coming to life, and I see a flicker of fear. That's enough for me. I string an arrow in my bow and point it at him.

"Back away, Cephas Gold. Get the hell out of my sights, or I swear to Snow that I will skewer your shriveled little heart with this hear arrow."

"I'd like to see you try." He's already flinching out of the way, and the arrow slices across his kneecap. He growls but runs away, like the coward he is. I laugh, but then I feel the salty, warm blood gushing out of my nose again. I rip off part of my sleeve and press it up against my bloody nostrils, stopping the bleeding after a bit of pinching the bridge of my nose and looking up at the sky. I throw away the bloody scrap of cloth and then look at the contents of my pack. If I'm right, the coward's retreating back to the Cornucopia, and he'll guard it with his life. So I have the contents of my pack.

I have lots of food and water, that's it, along with the spear and the bow and arrows. I'll do fine, I just have no medical supplies, but that's fine. I've never heard of anyone dying from a nose infection, though I guess it could happen. I stuff more cloth into my nose just in case, and then I find one of the taller trees and scale it, settling in the highest branches that hold my weight. Then I settle down for the rest of the day, and count off those still alive.

10 of us. From 1, the coward Cephas. From 2, myself. From 3, the 12 year old, Catherine, I think. From 5, Emmer and his partner, Caitlin, the one who got a 9 somehow. From 6, the scrawny Steale boy that somehow injured Emmer. From 7, the lovebirds, Bethany and Chen. From 8, Holly, I think she's still with the lovebirds but I can't be sure. And then that girl from 11 whose name I can't remember for the life of me. Halia? Hallis? Halle? Hailee? That's closer. Hailea! Just knowing her name makes me more relieved that I didn't kill her for some reason.

I know one thing now, at least. My brother didn't hesitate to kill younger kids in the bloodbath and afterward.

I'm not as ruthless as my brother, and is that such a bad thing, really?

...

 _ **Emmer Schuliare, 15, District 5 Male**_

 _"He might scare me to death."_

When I wake up, its well into the day, probably in the afternoon. When I peer out of the window of my room, I see from the position of the sun that it is almost exactly noon. I take a deep breath, but decide to leave the window open. It'll be nice to have fresh air in the stale room.

I peel off my bandages and inspect my wound. It's scabbed over mostly, and looks fine. I should be okay. It won't be infected. Suddenly, a statistic pops up in the back of my head. _10% of tributes die from infection in the Games._ My fingers begin to tremble. What is that?

It's me. It's the me I buried before the gong rang. I hid myself so the Strong and Mighty would tolerate me. I hid myself so I could focus on survival and killing, not facts and science. I hid myself because I was, for the first time in my life, scared of what others would think. But now I am alone. Now I can be myself again. A grin breaks out on my face as I sift through the widening sea of facts that I'm discovering in my memory. I whisper my favorites aloud.

"There are 115 known elements, though not all are in sequence."

"Elements 113, 115, and 117 have not been discovered."

"Emmer Schuliare's favorite element is Francium because of its explosive properties."

"Emmer Schuliare's least favorite element is Argon because of its...Argon-ness."

I laugh at the last one, losing myself in a world of factual evidence and science, some of which is forbidden, but I don't give a shit about that. I close my eyes as I imagine the world around me, full of science and discovery and adventure...I sigh. It's good to be my snarky self again, no matter how annoying I am to others. Hell, I haven't seen anyone in half a day. No one can hear me. I doubt the Gamemakers are focusing the cameras on a boy spewing scientific statistics.

Just as the sun reaches the top of its trajectory in the sky, I see a colorful blur outside my window, approaching. Parrots?

I back away from the window as the first lands on the sill, snapping it razor sharp beak. It screams shrilly, and others crowd at the sill. Once all three dozen of them are there, they dart forward. Beaks clip my skin and tears at my clothes, and I scream. I knock one to the floor with my nunchucks. I grab the rest of my supplies before dashing out of the room. I find the stairwell and run down it. The rabid parrot mutts soar down behind me, biting at me. One rips out a piece of my hair. I yell in pain as I run farther down the stairwell. Before I know it, I've passed the ground floor, but I keep going, down into what must be the basement. The parrots don't enter the basement, and that's good enough for me. I hunker down behind a pile of empty crates.

Hours pass. I know the parrots must be gone by now, but my wound's broken and its bleeding. I bandage it and sit around for hours, letting it settle and heal enough for me to move without it spurting blood everywhere. I pass the time by counting off the elements and making a sarcastic joke about each one.

"Fluorine's one of the whores of the Periodic Table; it'll join with anything willing to spare an electron!"

I laugh to myself, grinning. After I'm confident my injury must be okay now, I get up and decide to explore the basement. Night must have fallen by night. I climb up to the lobby before exploring, looking out. The sky is already velvety black; I must've spent more time behind the crates than I thought. I guess I did doze off for a while while sitting there.

I explore the basement. There's mostly empty crates, dusty furniture, and boxes of centuries expired food. It's interesting enough, but then I discover the safe, and I know I have to open it. My curiosity takes over and my hands clamp on the wheel that will open it. The wheel spins, and the doors creaks open. It's unlocked. I smile, giddy.

I open the door, and then a giant pair of blood red eyes opens, I feel a wave of hot, meaty breath hit me, and I know I've made a terrible mistake in the name of discovery.

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medicine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 7 arrows, spear, and pack full of food and water. In the northern jungle._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle, half eaten bag of potato chips, half drunken pint of water, iodine. On northern island IV._

 _Emmer Schuliare: Nunchucks and pack full of food, water, and a medical kit. In the Hotel Basement_

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, and iodine. In the southern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, six throwing knives, machete, 5 packets of dried fruit, and a gallon of water. In one of the bars in the pool-bar area by the hotel._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe,_ _Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches. At the southern beach._

 _Bethany Taylor: Two throwing knives, pack with crackers, jerky strips, empty water bottle, and a band aid. At the southern beach._

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with rope and crackers, and a quart of water. At the southern beach._

 _Hailea Himalayan: Throwing knife and water bottle. In the northern jungle._

...

 **A/N: Yes, a death, and the giant serpent. And there's only one alliance left, the Trifecta. Everyone's really falling apart, aren't they? No matter, so the serpent just came to me and now you have a cliffhanger with a large mutt about to terrorize the whole arena. I guess my promises of a deathless next chapter will be null. How sad. Anyway, here's the obituary for lovely Liv:**

 **11th: Olivanna Sanatorium, 15, District 6 Female - Spear to the chest by Cephas Gold, District 1 Male**

 **Liv, you were a nice girl and a nice tribute. I'm very sorry that I lost the element I loved most about you; your analytical side, writing down everything in a chart. I loved that part of you, but you were overshadowed most of the Games by your allies and I never got to explore that with you the way I wanted, and I'm so sorry about that. I would have kept you just a bit longer, but you were the only tribute in the entire poll that didn't get a single vote. (Yes, someone DID vote for Andi, even though the poll was posted after she died. xD) Because of that, you had to go. My condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Sanatorium, also your brother Xavier. You're a great girl. I Read To Escape The World, now it's just Hail left, let's hope she does well! If you're still reading, thanks for the great tributes!**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro, Olivanna Sanatorium**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt, Kiera Waters, Andrea Matches**

Cameron Spark -

 **Catherine Spark -**

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

 **Emmer Schuliare -**

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark**

Olivanna Sanatorium -

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

 **Bethany Taylor -**

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

Andrea Matches -

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano**

 **INJURIES**

 **Hailea Himalayan: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from Serephina's spear, and cut on elbow from Serephina's arrow, minor (poor girl)**

 **Serephina Manchas: Severely bruised face from Cephas' fists**

 **Emmer Schuliare: Intermediate cut across stomach, bandaged and treated**

 **ALLIANCE UPDATE**

 **The Trifecta: Chen, Bethany, and Holly**

 **Loners (not an alliance): Steale, Caitlin, Catherine, Cephas, Serephina, Emmer, and Hailea**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV?**

 **3\. Anything interesting/noticeable?**

 **4\. Thoughts about Liv's death?**

 **5\. Thoughts about Bethany's rebel relation/Aenea's new task, and how do you think it will effect the Games? (I made this up, I'm so sorry Thomas for making up extra backstory for her, but I need to do this for plot reasons. Hope you understand.)**

 **I'm sorry about the slow updates, I've been very busy with other stories and life in general.**

 **Once we get to Top 8, I'll post a new poll for the Victor. Poll results/reader's thoughts play a huge role in my choosing of who to kill and who to keep alive. So when that poll goes up, make sure you vote so your favorites don't die!**

 **Also, sponsor gifts! I haven't gotten lots lately, and they spice up the Games, so send some in!**

 **I'm also going on vacation with limited wifi and little to no writing time from the 16th-23rd, so do not expect chapters from me between those dates. :)**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Tracee**


	24. Day 7: Serpentine

**A/N: Here's Day 7! I know this is a quicker update than usual, and it isn't the longest chapter, but I felt rejuvenated, and I also wanted to give you guys another chapter before I'm gone for a week. Enjoy Day 7, and please, please, please review! Thanks! :)**

...

 _ **Cephas Gold, 18, District 1 Male**_

 _"I fell asleep as Serephina took first watch, dreaming about President Gaius Snow placing the Victor's crown on my head."_

I'm curled up in the back of the Cornucopia, barely asleep, when I hear the cannon.

BOOM!

I groggily stagger out of the Cornucopia, looking around. Some birds flutter away from the southern jungle, but besides that I see nothing. I stretch and yawn, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I hear distraught, pained wails coming from somewhere near the hotel, but I don't bother looking. Let the twerp suffer. I know it's Emmer, it has to be him. No other guy left in this Games besides maybe Steale screams like that. Well, at least I've imagined that's what his screams sound like, when I think about cutting off his head-

 _Stop!_ I berate myself. I could feel it taking over, the sadistic, killing part of me, the bloodthirsty part that haunts my dreams. It is because of that side that I have killed three people. It is because of that side that I am now alone, my allies lost or dying. I almost go to that hotel, to comfort Emmer while he's in his death throes, to repent and ask for forgiveness and to calm him down.

Notice I said almost.

Serephina's words echo in my head. _I didn't do this for the riches or the fame or the women, like you...effing coward._ Why did I enter these Hunger Games? I know it's not because of the selfless bull crap I told Toulouse during my interview. Was it to prove something to myself? To prove my bravery or manliness? Or is Serephina right, and I just did this for the money and the hot girls who will be piling themselves on top of me when I get out? I just squeeze my eyes shut. I honestly don't know. Maybe I do, but I'm hiding the truth from myself then.

Suddenly I see something slipping through the dunes. I pick up my sword and jog towards it, my brows creased. What the hell is that thing?!

The serpent emerges from between two large dunes, blood dripping from its fangs. There's a bulge in its midsection, and I swear loudly. That mutt like actually effing _ate_ someone else. As I approach the giant mutt apprehensively, one thing spooks us both.

BOOM!

The serpent starts moving faster, and I spot a hole opening up in the ground nearby for it to escape thru. This beast swallowed someone and partially digested them. It does not deserve to win. I know that for sure.

I leap forward towards it, sword raised, but some strange, pulsing force sends me flying backwards, onto my butt. The serpent slips into the hole, disappearing, and I just scowl, standing, and wiping the sand off of my pants. Two more dead, just in the morning.

We're in the Top 8, everybody. Time to bring out the big guns.

...

 ** _Bethany Taylor, 16, District 7 Female_**

"I _could do this."_

I wake up in Chen's strong grip. I look up at him, and our lips meet softly. One, two, three, four...I count every kiss, savoring them all. This is all I'm going to be able to have. I made up my mind last night.

Today I will be leaving Holly and Chen.

I cannot stick with them. I can't see them die. They have become too good of friends, and I don't think I could bear watching them both die. And, anyway, it will be better for Chen and myself if we cut off this relationship now. It's time to be mature, responsible, and forget about the way my heart beats feverishly whenever my lips touch Chen's, or how Holly can make me laugh with he offhand sarcastic comments at any moment. It's time to forget that I love them both in different ways. It's time to remember that this isn't just a Game, and that I need to win. I need to make it back to Yetta and Panema. I can't leave my little sisters in an orphanage with a dead sister. I must go home. Nothing can stop me.

Then the trees are peeled back by the head of a giant, pale green serpent, and I know my plans will be null.

I scream, jumping to my feet, hatchet raised. On impulse I throw my weapon, and it slices across the serpent's side before flying off into the forest. The serpent slowly moves towards me, hissing, mouth wide open. Chen jumps in front of me, swinging his axe, but a flick of the serpent's tail sends him flying into the sand a couple of yards away. Holly screeches in horror, frozen in place, sickle in hand, as the viper's jaws unhinge, opening wide, bearing giant white fangs.

It darts forward, wrapping its mouth around me. I howl and Holly and Chen scream and then I'm being shoved down the serpent's strangely smooth and...metallic throat. I look down to see steel beneath me. This thing is a machine. I'm not going to die.

Then red blood bursts from the serpent machine's fangs, and the mouth grinds together, and a cannon rings out.

BOOM!

My cannon. They think I am dead. I can hear Chen's agonized screams, and suddenly we start moving. I see little wheels on the bottom of the machine. Wise contraption. But why are they saving me, keeping me alive?!

I know it must be because of the wanderers. They think I know everything about them.

I curl up in a ball in the metal cage of a stomach of the serpent. After some time, I hear another far off cannon, muffled by the thick metal skin of the serpent machine.

BOOM!

There's commotion outside once, but then suddenly I am dropping and I'm screaming, but my screams are silenced by the machine's hardy exterior. We plummet for a few seconds before we land, hard. I groan. Nothing's broken but I'll have some nasty bruises.

The snake contraption falls to pieces around me, and I shakily stand. Two Peacekeepers grab my arms tight and drag me out of what must be the catacombs, the places underneath the arena where we were taken exactly a week ago. We pass a door marked "7F", and I pale. I remember that room. That is where I entered thwe arena. We pass more doors like that; 9F, 6F, and 12M. All of those people, Andi and Olivanna and Walter, they are all dead. Tears begin to drip from my eyes but the Peacekeepers do not react. We climb out of the catacombs, into the blaring sunlight outside of the arena. I can she the shimmering dome of the force field. It's like a one way mirror; the tributes can't see out, but we can see in. I see the azure waters, the jungle, the beach, the hotel, the Cornucopia, all of it. I begin to sob more, and then I'm buckled down in a hovercraft, alone with my tears.

This hovercraft's fancier than the one we rode to the Games in. There's velvet carpeting, and the chairs are leather instead of rigid plastic. A door creaks open, and Head Gamemaker Aenea Chariton strides into the room, a half dozen advisers and four Peacekeepers flanking her.

"Hello, Bethany Taylor," she snaps. "You may be wondering why you have been saved. This is no act of mercy, girl. You have information about the wanderers, yes?"

I knew that's what this is about.

"I know some stuff, but I don't know much," I admit.

"Tell us all you know, and we'll release you. You'll become an Avox, but you'll still be alive. If you refuse to participate, we will execute you and your little sisters under acts of treason. Oh, and your little sisters will be well taken care of if you participate. Understood?"

"Yes," I murmur.

"Good. I'll see you in the Capitol, Bethany," she says with a wink, and then she's gone, and I'm all alone.

I just sigh. No matter what, my life's over.

I always have wondered what it would feel like to get your tongue cut out.

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"I was safe for another day."_

I woke up to the sound of bending trees, the sound of papery scales gliding across the undergrowth. My eyes shot open and I instinctively pressed myself close to the tree trunk in which I slept, watching in horror as the monsterous serpent slithered past me.

Its red eyes glinted in the dark, and a bit of blood stained its always open, raw pink maw. I made myself even smaller, huddling in a ball, letting the fear control me. If I lashed out at this creature, if I revealed myself, I doubted my arrows would be able to keep it away. I did not weep in fear like others would. I was braver than that. Some might call my acts cowardice, but I knew I was being smart. Bravery isn't always the best of traits; it can lead you to an early death all because you weren't afraid of the giant, fifty foot long serpent slithering by that's bearing its foot long fangs at any critter that scurries past it.

After ten minutes of painful waiting, finally the flicking end of the pale green snake is out of sight and I sag on the tree branch, gasping in big breaths. I climb into the trees and sip from the water cups thirstily until most of them on my tree are empty. I hesitantly drop to the ground, supplies and bow in hand, quiver over my back. I dash through the jungle, settling in a tree near the edge of the forest. From here, I'll have a good vantage of a good deal of the arena.

As I grab another water cup plant and pour its contents down my throat, something makes me tumble down two branches before I finally get a hold on the tree.

BOOM!

I shudder. That serpent's got someone, it has to be. I didn't know anyone else was in this jungle, but they must have been close to me. Maybe they were on the beach, I wasn't far from there. No matter. I ignore the thoughts of who might have died; I'll find out tonight.

Suddenly a silvery parachute drops from the sky; an energy drink. I read the note attached. It's from Askia, my Mentor. I suddenly Soprana wrote the note on my bow and arrows. I guess he swallowed his pride and decided to help me out. It reads:

 _Good job so far. Here's something to power you up. :) - Askia_

I sigh and screw off the cap of the orange bottle. I drink a few sips and feel bouncy, perky, ready to go. I don't dare drink anymore of the energy juice, stashing it in my pack. I climb up into the branches of the tree, looking for edible fruit.

Then, as I find a mango and begin to eat, I hear a far off, anguished sound. My ears perk up. The sun is rising, glimmering over the horizon. The screams of pain are agonizing and hard to ignore. After an hour I finally drop from the tree, leaving my supplies at the edge of the forest. The sounds seem to be coming from the hotel. I make sure my supplies are well hidden underneath a bristly bush, and then I jog out towards the hotel. After a half hour of slinking through the dunes and the pools and bars, I finally reach the lobby of the hotel. I don't know why I do this, but the person is still screaming. It's a he, I'm sure of that now. I feel like I know the voice well, like I've heard it so many times before. I really hope this isn't some sick Gamemaker trap.

It isn't. Once I reach the basement, I see Emmer, lying in a pool of sticky red blood, sobbing and screaming, his voice hoarse and trembling. I drop my bow and sprint to his side. I don't know the guy well; heck, he even annoyed the hell out of me during the Pre-Games. But he's from my District, he's from home, and he's dying in my arms. There's two deep puffy red cuts on his abdomen; from the serpent's fangs, no doubt. His breathing is ragged and he seems relieved when he sees me.

"An 8 was never enough," he gasps as I hold his head, brushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. "Almost 40% scored the same or higher than me. In a normal year, it...it would have been enough. Not this time...there's...a para...parachute. Med...medicine?"

I crack open the parachute to reveal a shiny black pair of binoculars. The note reads this:

 _Here's some binoculars to look from the rooftop at the others! Great job, Emmer! - Askia_

"It fell...just before...serp...serpent came out," he hisses, and then he starts moaning loudly again in pain. "Ta...take the binocul...binoculars. P...please end it, Cait. P...p...pl..ple...ease..."

I don't cry, although my heart aches as I pull an arrow from my quiver and stab him in the chest. His expression is terrible as he dies; he's in excruciating pain for about a minute, and then all expression leaves his face. There's not even relief or anything like that. His face is just blank. His face is dead.

BOOM!

By the time I allow myself to leave the basement, leave behind Emmer's cooling corpse, daylight has already taken a full hold of the arena, and it's well past noon. No other cannons have fired, but two did today thus far; that means we're in the Top 8. A little grin breaks out on my face despite the fact that I just killed my second person, watched my very own mutilated District partner suffer in the throes of death. I'm getting closer to returning home.

I'm almost home, Grandma. I'm almost home.

...

 _ **Steale Boeing, 15, District 6 Male**_

 _"No, Steale. This isn't over yet. You can still make it out alive."_

I take another swig from my large, now about half full gallon of water. I have food I've scrounged up from behind the bar and the stuff from the Cornucopia, along with this jug of water. Then I have the machete and throwing knives. Who knew I'd be doing this well? I thought I'd already be buried back in 6 by now. I bet the betters back in the Capitol are disgruntled about me, begging the Gamemakers to wipe me out. Why?

Because I've made the Top 8.

They'll be interviewing Mom back home any time now, they like to get the interviews done quick just in case someone else dies that day. I still can't believe I've made it. I've been resigned to my fate for the longest time, just believing I was going to die, but now I'm here in the Top 8 and I actually have a shot at survival.

Darkness has already descended outside. I lay down, trying to nap, to fall asleep for a little bit until the anthem comes around, but I can't. Who died today? Serephina? No, not likely. Probably not Cephas either. The lovebirds from 7? Possibly. The girl from 8? I feel like she's still out there. The pair from 5? They both seem smart, they're probably still alive. The 12 year olds from 3 and 11? Probably them, probably them. They are allies, I think, after all.

Finally, the anthem begins to play. I creep out of the bar and sit outside the door, looking up in the sky as the silvery seal of Panem shimmers there. Then it is replaced by the face of the boy from 5. Interesting. Following him is the girl from 7. So the lovebirds are split. Hmm. The Panemian seal appears again, and then the lights are gone, and the new day has begun.

Mom, here I come. You won't be alone any longer.

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medicine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 7 arrows, spear, medicine, and pack full of food and water. In the northern jungle._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle, half eaten bag of potato chips, half drunken pint of water, iodine. On northern island IV._

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, energy drink, and iodine. In the southern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, six throwing knives, machete, 5 packets of dried fruit, and a gallon of water. In one of the bars in the pool-bar area by the hotel._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe, Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, and matches, and t_ _wo throwing knives, pack with crackers, jerky strips, and empty water bottle_ _. At the southern beach._

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with rope and crackers, and a quart of water. At the southern beach._

 _Hailea Himalayan: Throwing knife and water bottle. In the northern jungle._

...

 **A/N: And now we have our Top 8! Congratulations to anyone who has a tribute in it! Now, for our obituaries:**

 **10th: Bethany Taylor, District 7 Female - Devoured by serpent mutt (not really dead)**

 **So yes, she's still alive and I sort of broke the rules of the Hunger Games. I just really liked her character, but she had 2 votes in the poll, which was enough to save her, but barely. Since she really wasn't anyone's favorite, I took her out via the serpent mutt, and now she's being interrogated and will either be Avoxed or executed (most likely Avoxed.) She was fun and easy to write, and I liked her a lot. My condolences to Yetta, Panema, and Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, as well as the Krenson's. Hopefully you all will be able to escape with the wanderers for good. :). Sorry she had to go, Thomas, but you still have Cephas. :)**

 **9th: Emmer Schuliare, District 5 Male - Wounded by serpent mutt, then finished off with an arrow to the chest by Caitlin Theardie, District 5 Female**

 **Ugh, this one broke my heart to write. I loved Emmer, and I was originally taking him to the finale, but he only got a single vote in the poll. I loved his sarcasm and his facts, but he was in the bottom 2 votes wise, and I just couldn't ignore that fact. I'm sorry for the painful death, but it helped develop Caitlin a little bit, and I'm sure you want your District partner and your fellow Platrium character to win, Emmer. ;). He was fun and awesome to write, and I lost the true essence of him for a while, but he resurfaced in recent chapters, and I'm happy for that. My condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Schuliare, I'm so sorry that you are now childless. :( Thanks, Platrium, for the great character. At least you still have Cait :)**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro, Olivanna Sanatorium**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt, Kiera Waters, Andrea Matches**

Cameron Spark -

 **Catherine Spark -**

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

Emmer Schuliare -

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine, Emmer Schuliare**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark**

Olivanna Sanatorium -

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

Bethany Taylor -

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

Andrea Matches -

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano, Bethany Taylor, Emmer Schuliare (Assist)**

 **INJURIES**

 **Hailea Himalayan: Wounded shoulder, bandaged and treated, intermediate, from Serephina's spear, and cut on elbow from Serephina's arrow, minor (poor girl)**

 **Serephina Manchas: Severely bruised face from Cephas' fists**

 **ALLIANCE UPDATE**

 **The Dynamic Duo: Chen and Holly**

 **Loners (not an alliance): Steale, Caitlin, Catherine, Cephas, Serephina, and Hailea**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV?**

 **3\. Anything interesting/memorable?**

 **4\. Thoughts on Aenea's method of bringing Bethany out?**

 **5\. GO VOTE IN THE POLL! :)**

 **So, yes, the poll for Victor is up. Choose your 2 favorites that you want to win the Games. I'll most likely pick the one with the most votes unless I cannot make their Victory conceivable or real.**

 **Next chapter will be the Top 8 interviews, and then we'll get back to the Games. :)**

 **Congrats to these submitters and their tributes: ThomasHungerGamesFan (Cephas), strange and proud of it (Serephina), Scar-the-Beta-Wolf (Catherine), Platrium (Caitlin), Maveriqua (Steale), Bluffs (Chen), Holly (skyheart033), and Hailea (I Read To Escape the World.) Please review!**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	25. Top 8 Interviews

**A/N: And here are the interviews! I am so terribly sorry that this took so long to get out, but I wanted it to be quality, so it took a while. And yes, I did accidentally delete half of it several days ago. :( Anyway, I have an update; I started cross country (running) for a team today, among other things, and school will begin soon after that. Because of that, I'm going to try to get this story all wrapped up before school begins. With school on the way, I'll have very little time to write, so Underside will sadly be indefinitely postponed until I find enough time to write another story or I feel like I have enough drive to write another SYOT. Enjoy the interviews!**

 **...**

 _ **Faustina LeBoreaux, 35, Co-Host of the Hunger Games**_

 _"A television program is one big picture that's made of tiny pieces, almost like a puzzle, like scraps of fabric laid out to make a dress. It's up to me and the crew to sew it all together."_

I sighed as Crux, one of three cameramen, yelled to tell me that taping would begin in a half of a minute. I just smiled at him as my makeup artist made her final touches with a puffy brush. She darted off as Crux declared that twenty seconds were left. I glanced up at the house behind me; large and spacious, it was bigger than the apartments most Capitol citizens lived in. It was ornately decorated, and the family that lived inside it, the Gold's, were obviously very rich and influential. Crux cried out "Ten seconds!" He began counting down with his fingers silently while I climbed up the stairs and stood in front of the Gold's oaken front door. Crux mouthed the numbers as his fingers ticked off. _Five. Four. Three Two. One._

"Hello Panem!" I cheered. "We're here today in District 1 at the Gold residence, occupied by Hermes and Octavia Gold, parents of Cephas Gold, a Top 8 contestant of this 10th Annual Hunger Games!"

I grinned widely at the camera, making a show of slamming the golden, lion shaped knocker against the thick oaken door, painted green. Repulsive knocker, but I knew Octavia from her position as a prominent hair stylist who worked in the Capitol part time.

Octavia and Hermes opened the door together, grinning. Octavia was dressed in a flowing white dress that looked rather nice on her, and Hermes was in khaki pants and a nice gingham dress shirt. They were put together, as if they had been expecting this. Well, we had pulled up outside their manse about an hour ago, two hours after that Emmer boy from 5 perished and the Top 8 was determined. They both welcomed me together into their house. I followed them in, Crux and the other two cameramen following, along with other staff.

We sat down at a polished coffee table, made of the richest mahogany. Very beautiful; it was an amazement that the lovely table had not been tarnished one bit even though it must have been put under years of use. Keeping furniture clean, especially tables, and especially mahogany, is a true showing of prosperity and civility.

"Hello Octavia and Hermes," I said with a smile. The cameramen circled us, taking in every reaction, every word, every movement. Some people were paralyzed by the spotlight, but being on camera, broadcasted to the entire nation, was a true gift, the thing I loved most in my entire life. It was a shame that they had Toulouse do the interviews with all of the tributes at the beginning; personally, I feel I would be better suited to the task.

"Hello Faustie!" Octavia cried, hugging me tight. I was a loyal client. She only embraced me, loosely so, for several seconds. Etiquette, always prime and forefront in this family's minds and actions. I wished all of the Districts could act like the Gold's. I also shook Hermes' hand. His grip was tight but not tight enough to warrant suspicion. Well trained in manners, even for a citizen of the Luxury District.

"So, did you two know about Cephas' decision to enter the Games?" I asked, quickly settling into the true interview.

"Honestly...no," Hermes replied, and I could see tears swimming in Octavia's eyes already. She was always a rather emotional lass. "He didn't tell us because he knew we'd dissuade him. He worked out his entire life just in case he were to be Reaped, but we were in no way preparing him to enter the Games voluntarily...it was all his own choice." Octavia was barely keeping the tears from seeping from her eyes, so I moved onto a less touchy and much less emotional subject for the two shocked parents.

"What do the both of you do for jobs?" I inquired.

"I'm a perfumer, and I rather well known one, if I am allowed to be honest. I'm a very humble man, just speaking the truth," Hermes told me. Manners, prime, optimal. I was already cheering on Cephas, but I also wanted to do his closing interview. If Cephas was as civil a fellow as his parents, his closing interview would be spectacular compared to Calla's last year. That girl...I didn't even want to think of her apparent lack of etiquette.

"I am a hair stylist, and I often am allowed to travel to the Capitol to do my job there," Octavia sniffled, her tears drying up. Good.

"Wonderful!" I exclaimed. I moved on to my third question; we only had time to ask each family four questions, so I had to select the best ones to ask, or I wouldn't be able to portray the families in the best way.

"So what are your favorite parts of District 1?"

"I personally find the Gem Gardens rather interesting," Hermes replied, smiling as he explained what the Gem Gardens were. "They are these exemplary gardens where every plant is made of jewels. It was created by the mayor and a team of jewelers several years ago and it is quite magnificent."

"I find my most favorite part of 1 is the possibilities found here. There's so many different jobs you could have; perfumer, jeweler, painter, potter, silversmith, hair stylist, makeup artist, and so much more. It's a very varied and wonderful place to call home," Octavia managed to say in a clear, concise fashion. Good, she had gotten over her hysterics.

"And our final question of the night." This was the one that I asked everyone. "What do you think of Cephas' performance in the Games thus far?"

"He's done great. He's putting his physical training to use, which is great. He's made some kills and has become a favorite; I have every confidence that he will return home to us within the week," Hermes declared emphatically.

"I'm happy he's safe, that's all," Octavia whispered as the tears returned as fast as they'd vanished.

"Okay!" I stood, waving goodbye to the two lonely parents. They should've had more kids; this giant house could have accommodated more than a single child.

As I glided down the front steps, Crux zooms in on my face.

"That was the Gold family from District 1! Next stop, the Manchas residence in the heart of District 2!"

.

Crux adjusted the lens of his camera before beginning the countdown. Already this was getting minimally repetitive; when we visited the Himalayan's in 11, I would be begging the producers to ship me back to the Capitol. Not that the Districts are supremely boring. It's just that I miss my home, and I miss my daughter Finola, age 6, and my husband Cornelius. And I'm a creative girl; I enjoy shaking things up and not repeating the same review several times. But I _am_ a creative girl. I will make this work.

"Now we're in the center of District 2, just outside of the Manchas residence." I walked up to the front door. It wasn't ornate; nothing about the house was. But it was rather big, looming over the smaller house situated around it. The Manchas' were obviously rich.

I rang the tarnished silver doorbell, and the door was opened in moments. Augustus and Penelope Manchas, dressed in their snow white Peacekeeper uniforms minus the helmets, open the doors. Serephina's younger sister, Jewel, stood between her parents, beaming and dressed in a pretty lavender skirt with a clean white top that mimicked the uniforms of her parents.

"Mrs. LeBoreaux," Augustus boomed. "Please come inside."

I just smiled wide, even though something made me want to lose the smile, the airhead act. They sat me down at their kitchen table, a worn place with five chairs. One chair had once been Garry, their oldest son's, chair. He had died in the previous Games, killed by Calla. And I sit in what must presumably be Serephina's chair. I feel bad for the family; they might end up losing two of their three children. All three, even; Jewel seemed immensely eager to meet me and to talk about the Games.

"So, Mr. and Mrs. Manchas, you two are Peacekeepers?" I asked, breaking the ice as the cameramen, headed by Crux, settle into position.

"Yes," Penelope replied, her voice higher and tinny. "We've both been in the force since we were 18, almost 25 years ago."

"Augustus, have you always lived in 2?"

"No. Actually, I grew up in the Capitol. Penny's lived here all of her life, however." His voice was gruff and deep, almost scary. I turned to Jewel.

"So, what are you planning to do with your life, Jewel?"

"I'm going to volunteer!" she sang with a joyous voice. That explained a lot. I just grinned at her.

"What do you think of Serephina's performance in the Games thus far?" I asked the family.

"She's doing GREAT!" Jewel cried out. "She's going to win it. I know it for sure."

"Augustus and I are both very impressed and honored by our daughter's magnificent performance in the Games. We both think she's a strong enough woman to make it back home," Penelope told me, her lips pressed in a thin, joyless smile.

"Well, thanks for the interview! It's time to be going!" I shook all of their hands before departing from the drab Manchas residence. As I let myself out of the house after Crux and the others had scuttled out, the cameras focused on me.

"That was the Manchas family from District 2! Up next, the Spark household in District 3!"

.

As Cara and Caleb Spark opened the front door of their gray, almost haunting apartment, it was obvious that they had been trying to hide the signs of their worry and depression. Cara had traced heavy amounts of makeup around her eyes to draw away from their bloodshot appearance, and Caleb barely managed to keep a thin, meaningless smile on his face. Cara's handshake felt like a summer breeze rolling against my hand, and Caleb's was not much stronger, although he had decent arm muscles. They were both depressed, and for good reason; they had recently lost their 12 year old son to the Games, and now his twin, Catherine, was hashing it out with 7 other tributes that all appeared to be stronger than her, excepting the Himalayan girl. There was little hope in sight for Catherine; no one below the age of 15 had ever won the Games, and then only once at age 15. This was the first year ever where two 12 year olds made it to the Top 8, and one of the three where a 12 year old made it to the Top 8 at all. Also, District 3 had a horrible track record; they had no Victor yet, and a majority of their tributes died in the bloodbath. Catherine was only the fourth tribute from 3 to worm her way into the Top 8, and the other three tributes from 3 who made it to the Top 8 perished soon after, all three placing 8th. So yes, Catherine Spark did not have much to hope for, especially since she was up against tributes of such a high caliber, like Cephas, Serephina, and the Chen boy from 7. But she had scored a 7 in training somehow. Maybe she had some secret skill that she was waiting to use until she got into serious trouble. Or maybe she was just a severely lucky girl.

I pushed all speculation and analyzing from my mind; I was supposed to act the part of the airhead reporter, after all, not the major Games fan sleuth. So I locked into airhead mode, even began to think like an airhead, like a person who thought that manners and cleanliness were the most important things in life. I'd been in that type of mindset while visiting the Gold's and the Manchas' earlier.

We sat down around their worn kitchen table. The floors where linoleum, for God's sake! What is this, the slums? I guess it is pretty bad compared to the Capitol, even though their apartment is rather decent for District 3. Everything was messy but disguised; the sink full of dirty dishes was hidden by a large towel, and I could see the piles of unwashed clothing hastily shoved behind the couch. The Spark's were really hurting, and they weren't taking good care of themselves. I felt bad, but quickly switched into airhead reporter mode and thought that they were disgusting vermin, and that it was good that their offspring were being terminated. Wow. That was bad, even for airhead Faustie.

"So, Cara, what do you do for work?" I asked.

"I design microchips for computers," she said quietly, looking at the table.

"Caleb, what do you do for work?"

"I am an engineer; my current project is seeing how we can best build a bridge over a river over in District 9." Caleb was louder, more confident. He understood that you need to cooperative in an interview that was going to be broadcasted to the entire nation of Panem.

"How do you feel about the loss of Cameron?" That one hurt to ask, honestly.

"We miss him terribly," Cara whispered, and then she began to sob quietly. Caleb hugged her tight and quieted her tears.

"He served his nation well," Caleb said hoarsely. I could see the fury burning in his eyes; he meant the exact opposite. He hated the Capitol. I hadn't realized until I did these interviews how hated the Capitol is. The Capitol really was a sheltered place.

"How do you think Catherine will do?"

"She will come back to us. She'll win," Cara immediately replied, standing. "I'm sorry, but we have to go to work. Goodbye." She stormed out of the apartment, and the cameras quickly shut down. Crux and I shared a worried look as we left behind the Spark residence.

"Edit that part out. Let's not get the poor woman in trouble." Crux nods in agreement, and once we get outside we tape the wrapping up segment.

"That was the Spark's! Now, onto District 5, to meet the grandmother of Caitlin Theardie!"

.

Ms. Thelma Theardie, grandmother to Caitlin Theardie, was waiting by the red-orange front door of her large brick home, a black and white cat she called Scribbles nestled in her arms. Thelma sat in a silvery wheelchair. A middle aged man named Anthony Tussix was her caretaker for the time being, while Caitlin was away, he told me. Something in his eyes said "away forever", but he pretended to be optimistic about Caitlin's chances. She had scored a 9! She had killed that strong boy from 2, Dameon! She still had arrows and her bow! She was fast, strong, smart! He should really think better of her; even though she wasn't the favorite in the Capitol, she certainly wasn't disliked. That much was clear by the amounts people were betting on her. Then again, everyone bet lots during the Top 8. But still. Caitlin Theardie had a legitimate chance of being District 5's very first Victor.

Ms. Theardie was obviously rather wealthy, probably from before the Dark Days, working as a software developer or something like that in the Information Age America before the radical group called Panem took over. She was also sort of senile, slow, her memory quickly deteriorating. My brother Fabian was a doctor, and I suspected this woman might have dementia. Either way, she was able to answer the questions as we sat down at a lovely, ornate mahogany

"So, Thelma, how do you like living in District 5?"

"It is rather nice, deary," she said with a thin smile. "Rather nice, rather nice, no criminals, really, at all here. Very warm, nice and toasty all year round, yes, nice and toasty, lively, fun, rather fun, rather lively."

"Anthony, how do you know the Theardie's?"

"Well, I am their next door neighbor. Thelma once helped us out when we were in a financial rut, so I thought it's only fair for me to care for her while her darling Caitlin is away. My wife Anne and my daughter Liesel sometimes help out as well."

"Ah, interesting. So, Thelma, how have you gathered all of this wealth? This is a very pretty house."

"I don't quite remember, deary. I think I got it from my father, before your time, deary. Before your time, yes, before your time."

I nod, and then ask the final question. "How do you think Caitlin will do and has been doing?"

"She's magnificent, my darling, magnificent, magnificent!" Thelma piped up, more lively than she had been the entire interview. "She's just a hoot, simply a hoot, and I love her, the sweet child, sweetest child. She'll be back home to Gramma Thelmy in no time. I'm sure of that, Faustie deary. Sure of that indeed, deary."

"I think she's done well, especially for a District 5 tribute." Anthony was picking his words carefully. "I think she'll go farther than any District 5 tribute has before." He neglected to remind everyone that the farthest a District 5 tribute had ever made it was 7th.

"Well, thank you for the charming interview!" I chimed. I stood and walked out of the house after lightly embracing Thelma and shaking hands with Anthony Tussix. Then we headed out of the home, through the orange red door, and onto the sidewalk.

"That was the Theardie residence in District 5! Now, onward, to the Boeing household in District 6!"

.

We arrived at the house of Mrs. Susanna Boeing. Her husband had recently died in a way we had not been alerted of. We knocked on the door, but no one answered. After knocking dozens of more times, we finally called in some Peacekeepers. They tore open the peeling front door to reveal a trashed house.

We searched for Mrs. Boeing, but found no trace of her. We interrogated neighbors, and the last time anyone had seen her had been a few hours after the Reaping, packing up. We searched the records to see if she had moved houses, but Mrs. Boeing had simply disappeared. It was the strangest thing, but we found Steale's close friend, Trevor. He was in school and only had time to answer a single question.

"So, buddy, how do you think Steale is doing, and do you think he'll come home?"

"He's done nice! My bud's comin' back!" the boy piped before dashing off. I guess District 6's Top 8 interview wouldn't be the highlight of the 10th Annual Hunger Games.

After we watched Trevor duck into his classroom, I turned back to the camera.

"Well, that was our interview for Steale Boeing! Next stop: the Evoncurst homestead in District 7!"

.

Mr. Oliver Evoncurst opened the door to his humble, eclectic apartment. He grinned thinly as he welcomed myself and the crew inside. The table had two chairs, and was set for dinner. How had he suspected that I would be starving, my stomach begging for something to eat?! He smiled at me as he dished out ground meat and pasta with a nice tomato sauce. This must have been much fancier than what Oliver and Chen usually ate; after all, they both worked for the lumber mills, making not a lot of money. The dinner was delicious, and the cameras stopped taping for a majority of the meal; the nation wouldn't care how I ate every bit of my pasta. So they just flared back to life when there was only a few noodles left. I ate them up politely and gave a large, winning smile.

"Thank you," I said before wiping my saucy mouth with a napkin he had handed me. "So, Mr. Evoncurst?"

"Oliver. You can call me Oliver, um, what shall I call you?"

"You can call me Faustie." I winked, and he seemed a little mesmerized. Well, he was a single man. And I _had_ recently decided to go natural, shedding my orange wig in favor of my natural, mousy brown hair. A minute sign of rebellion against the fakeness, the faux beauty, of the Capitol. So minute, though, that no one really saw it or understood it. Most just thought I was being stupid and had traded my orange wig for a brown one.

"So, Oliver. What do you do for work?"

"I work at the lumber mill nearby, cutting down trees."

"Interesting!" I almost cringed at the fake sweetness, the fake enthusiasm in my voice. "So, not to be prying, but what happened to Chen's mother?"

Oliver gulped, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he spoke. "Elsy died from cancer when Chen was only two."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I murmured. "So, what did you think of Chen's little romance in the Games?"

Oliver chuckled a little bit. "He's never experimented, really, with girls before or anything, so it was nice to see him fall in love. It was a rather sad when Bethany got eaten by the snake. The entire District is in mourning, though we're still hopeful about Chen coming home."

"So, how do you think Chen's been doing, and do you think he'll make it back?"

"He's my son. He's strong, smart, charismatic, and a great man. Chen will be back soon."

I smiled at him, and we shook hands. I thanked him for the dinner, and then we were walking out of the apartment. I liked that man. He was kind enough. I bet Chen was just as pleasant as his father, if not more so.

"That was the Chen residence in District 7! Onward, to the Burnett home in District 8!"

.

We walked into the blank gray apartment that was called home by Hannah Burnett and her two daughters, Carla, 18, and Leah, 10. There was a void at the scarred kitchen table, a void that nothing could fill. The void was Holly; she was locked in the arena with not a lot of chance of making it out. She'd scored a 6, which was well enough, but with competitors who'd scored 11s, 10s, 9s, and 8s, she surely had lots of things between her and coming home. Hannah, Carla, and Leah all seemed to understand this harrowing and harsh, yet sadly true, fact. I noticed the apparent lack of a father figure; it was the exact opposite of the Evoncurst home we had just left behind an hour ago. Holly and Chen were allies in the Games. Maybe their families could unite as well...ah, stupid talk. Inter District travel was banned anyway. And it was hard to believe that two strangers would be right for each other simply because they were single and they had both had children in the same Hunger Games. There were plenty of single parents in the Districts. Plenty who had lost children to the Games. It wasn't an irregularity; more so, it was the regularity.

"So, what do you do for work, Hannah?" I asked her, smiling warmly.

"Well, I work at the Peacekeeper factory, making uniforms for Panem's protectors." I could tell that she hated saying those words. The words were probably some slogan that her boss or some gloating Peacekeeper was making her say.

"I work in the factories, too. I just help make fabrics, I don't make clothes," Carla whispered. "And Holly used to work with me..."

I smiled reassuringly at Carla, but tears were already gathering in the poor girl's eyes. I turned to Leah.

"So, Leah, how's school as of late?"

"It's great," she answered with an eager smile. She probably didn't totally understand what was going on. Even though she was ten, she seemed to act a bit younger than that, maybe 8 or 9 years of age instead of 10 bordering on 11. "Just yesterday, we learned about the population of District 10!"

"Swell!" I replied in a falsely cheery voice. "So, Carla, tell us about yourself."

"I am 18. I am the daughter of this woman, Hannah, and my sadly deceased father, Theodore. I am the older sister to Holly and Leah. I work in a fabric making factory. I hope one day to get married and have daughters of my own, and to get a well paying job. Is that good?"

"Yes, certainly. How do you all think Holly will do in the Games?"

"She's done great so far," Hannah murmured. I could see something in her eyes saying _she made it farther than we could have ever even dreamed._

"Holly's gonna be home soon, I'm sure!" Leah piped, snuggling into her mother's arms.

"She's done fine," Carla hissed. She was shutting off, getting angry, tears collecting in her eyes. We should get out of there before the dam broke.

We strode out of the Burnett's apartment, and I grinned at the camera.

"That was the Burnett family! Next and final stop: the Himalayan residence in District 11!"

.

We pulled into _Hudgeson's Melon Farm._ Citizens of District 11 and residents of the farm toiled underneath the setting sun, harvesting melons and placing them in large, rusty flatbed trucks that coughed and growled and squealed as they drove through the fields. Most of the people were weak, skinny, and dull, and many did not even look up from their work as the hovercraft landed in one of the open fields. I stepped out, and my stiletto became entangled in the dried remains of a melon vine. I shook it off and pranced over to the barrack like housing complexes, where the workers lived and ate and slept and played.\

The owner of the farm, Root Hudgeson, showed us right to the Himalayan's small, nearly barren room. Inside were three worn cots, some clothing, and a few other cheap, ratty personal items, like books, dolls, and other things. Mrs. Elana Himalayan was passed out on her bed, and Heidi, Hailea's 19 year old sister, was sitting on her own cot, reading a book. She looked up when I entered, and she snarled, waking Elana, who started rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Get the hell outta here! We don't give a damn about Hailea! She's a bitch and she deserves to die! I hope she kicks the bucket soon, and I also hope it's frickin' nasty!" Heidi screeched. We backed out of the room, and Root escorted us out, apologizing for Heidi's rudeness and telling us that she would be fired from the farm. Elana didn't work, she didn't have the heart for it ever since her husband died, so she'd be moving out, too. I felt a pang of pity but it quickly faded. If they were happy that their 12 year old daughter/sister was heading towards almost inevitable death, then there was something screwed up in their heads or their hearts, and they deserved to be let go of their jobs, to starve and grovel on the streets. It was disgusting.

We flew back home to the Capitol with all of our film. Tonight, the Top 8 interviews would air to Panem.

I hoped they were enough to keep me out of hot water with Snow for another year.

...

 **A/N: I'm so, so sorry for the excessive mahogany joke during the Gold's interview, I just had to! xD And I'm also sorry for the massive length of time it took to get his out. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the Top 8 interviews. They were rather fun to write. Ill try my hardest to get another chapter soon. Because of my time deadline (about three-ish weeks), I will not be able to do any purely character development days with no deaths. I would like to stretch this story farther, but I just don't have the time to, sadly.**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite Interview?**

 **2\. Least Favorite Interview?**

 **3\. Creators: Did I portray the families of your great tributes well?**

 **Thanks for reading, and once again I am so sorry about the postponement of Underside for the time being. I really would like to do it, I just don't have enough time. :(**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	26. Day 8: Silvery Skies

**A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry for the long-ish waits between chapters. I am sincerely going to try to finish this by the end of August, and if not then, it should be wrapped up by the end of September at the latest. Sorry that this isn't very long, but there isn't much action. Here is Day 8, and please enjoy it! :D**

...

 _ **Chen Evoncurst, 17, District 7 Male**_

 _"I'm almost sure one of us will come out Victorious."_

I don't cry. The few droplets of water my body would spare are long gone, whisked away by the heat and the wind while I watched Bethany get devoured by the serpent. My body aches from rebounding backwards off of whatever force field surrounded the serpent mutt. I guess they didn't want me cutting open that wretched snake and finding Bethany's mutilated, saliva coated corpse. That would be rather gory, even for the Hunger Games.

Holly silently comforts me, just sitting next to me on the lookout rock. We stare at the ocean together, watching the waves dip and buck, spitting foam. They're making the sea rather rambunctious today. Maybe they'll make the waters rush in and drown us. That would equal out Bethany's terrible death. Two "boring" drowned corpses, floating serenely on top of the pellucid ocean waters, out of reach of even the hovercrafts, not a drop of blood in sight.

It's somewhere between ten and noon (I can't really keep track of time any more) when we hear the telltale tinkling of parachutes behind us. We both whirl around to see twin parachutes float effortlessly through the air, descending towards us. They land on the sandy beach about five feet away from the lookout rock. We both leap down, take the one with our District number stamped on the container, and crack them open.

Holly smiles as she pulls out a medium sized container of water; ours was almost empty. My parachute contains a sleeve of salty crackers, and the note reads this:

 _Hey bud. Sorry about Beth, but you gotta keep going. In the bushes nearby is Bethany's throwing axe. Go get it, you'll need it later on. Good job, and keep on going. - Oakes_

I grind my teeth together and eat a cracker as I walk over to the undergrowth lining the jungle's edge. After a dozen or so minutes of searching, I finally find it tangled underneath the roots of a bush that the serpent tore in half during its meal, "Filet Le Bethany." As I wipe some grime from the hatchet, I spot a green snake crawling across a tree trunk nearby. It's harmless, barely longer than my foot, but anger sizzles up and I cleave the creature in half with my larger axe. I reluctantly gather the two pieces of dead snake and bring it to Holly. Maybe we can eat it.

"No. It might be poisonous," Holly says when she's done with her appraisal of the snake. That's what I was thinking, too, but really I was just looking for a reason for killing that little snake. Sure, it's a Gamemaker creation, but I didn't have to do that. I just slap myself mentally.

I need to get over this girl. This snake thing is just my messed up feelings over her amplified, I'm sure. Sure, Bethany was nice. Dare say I was close to loving her. But I'm not going to jeopardize my life and my mental health over the loss of her. My father is more important than wallowing in my sorrow. My friends are more important than drowning in guilt. I need to survive, and if not for myself, then for them. I need to survive for her, too.

The rest of the day passes without much event. Holly and I rarely talk. Without Bethany, the social one who always initiated conversation, we're at a loss for words. We're not splitting, not yet, at least. But I won't be surprised if she hightails it out of here tonight or tomorrow or something like that. Doing so makes sense, I guess, but Cephas and Serephina are still out there, along with that Caitlin girl from 5. I might be able to take them on by myself, but Holly might have trouble doing so. For our mutual safety, it's better to stick together until all of the tough competition is eliminated.

I take the first watch, letting Holly get some rest. No deaths today. A first, surprisingly. 8 days in. How many more days are left in this vile Game? I can't guess.

I just stare at the tossing ocean waters. I hope this ends soon.

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, District 2 Female**_

 _"I'm not as ruthless as my brother, and is that such a bad thing, really?"_

I am awoken by a soft tinkling sound. I look up to see a glittering silvery parachute entangled in the branches of the tree I have slept in. It's around ten in the morning, if I'm reading the sun's position in the sky correctly. I sling my quiver over my shoulder and take my bow, just in case. Then I ease myself up the slender branches until I'm in reach of the precariously dangling parachute. I snatch it and scramble back down to the thicker branch where I slept. My supplies are also on that branch. It's my home base for the time being.

I crack open the container after ripping off the mesh parachute. Inside is a steaming platter of fried chicken slathered in some time of rich, delicious looking sauce. I dig into what my note calls "Korean Fried Chicken." It's amazing, and even though I've always been fed back home in 2, it's always stale, tasteless things, nothing rich, nothing decadent that will plump me up and ruin my physical fitness. Now this is real living, eating stuff like this "Korean Fried Chicken."

After I finish the entire thing, my stomach is bursting and I feel a little guilty for eating it all at once. I grab some water and count the bottles. Five. There were six yesterday...hmm. Did one of the little 12 year olds really dare to steal from me? Brash. I decide to read the rest of the note; I only really caught the words "Lorean Fried Chicken" the first time around.

 _Here's some Korean Fried Chicken to help you stay full and fit and eager. Go hunting. - Brick_

I drink about a quarter of the bottle, and then I cover my spear and a majority of my food and water in a layer of plant material on the forest floor. Then I take my bow, quiver, a bottle of water, and two packs of food. _  
_

I nod quietly to myself as I stalk my way through the jungle. I have to kill. I have to. If I see one of those girls, I will shoot them.

After about an hour of searching, I hear rustling and see a darker colored blob rushing away. I chase after it.

It turns out to be a small pygmy jungle deer, but its original pursuer now circles me. A jaguar. Its claws are caked in blood, and I can't help but wonder if it killed one of the other tributes. Maybe that girl from 10...Bianca was it? I never saw how she died.

It leaps at me, snarling, and I empty an arrow at it. It hits the beast on its right hind leg, and it staggers. I fire another arrow into its skull, and then the mutt is dead. I pull both arrows out of the motionless spotted corpse, and then I keep searching.

Nothing. After four hours of searching, I'm tired and weary and I climb back into my tree. I drink some more water and eat a pack of dried fruit. No cannons the entire day. I guess Cephas was unsuccessful as well. I don't know how to feel about that.

I will win this, no matter what I have to do. If not for myself, then for the Manchas family name. For District 2.

For Garry.

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"I'm almost home, Grandma. I'm almost home."_

I sit near the fringe of the southern jungle, bushy shrubs and tall, wily grasses hiding me in plain sight. My bow rests next to me along with my other supplies. I have Emmer's binoculars rolling around from hand to hand, calming me, anchoring me. I have to be careful. I have to stay calm. I have to stay focused.

Fear has ruled me for the beginning of these Games, but I will not let that happen any longer. I am smart. I am strong. I am fast. I _can_ win this. I can't let fear and depression decide my decisions in these Games for me. I have to use my head, and not always go with my gut instinct.

A few hours after noon, probably around 2 or 3, I hear a soft tinkling sound. A parachute. My eyes dart up. While this gift will help me out, now I have to move my location because the parachute could be easily seen from nearby. I snatch the parachute from the air, collect my supplies, and sprint into the jungle. After running for a couple of minutes, I throw my pack up into a tree, and then I crawl into the upper branches. Only when I'm safely hidden behind a curtain of branches and leaves do I crack open my steaming parachute.

I lick my lips as my eyes open wide. The parachute was heavy, sure, and big. But I could never imagine all the goodies it would conceal within its metallic depths.

Grilled, buttery, and expensive looking beef sit on a platter. My note calls it wagyu. There's a can of mushroom soup, and even though I love mushroom soup, I keep it inside my pack for later. I need to save some of these delicacies. The final thing is a small orange cooler. I crack it open, and a gust of icy cold air hits me in the face. I pull out a large tub of orange ice cream, with a plastic spoon sitting beside it in the cooler. There are also lots of ice chips to keep the ice cream cold. I've only had ice cream twice; once when I got all A's in sixth grade, and once when Grandma was craving it and let me have some. I can't resist. I dig into the sugary, delicious ice cream and eat about a third of it before I make myself stop. I don't want to give myself a stomach ache, and I also need to save this for later. I suck on some of the ice chips since I'm almost out of water. It feels so good to have cold water in the steamy, blazing jungle.

After eating some of the purely amazing wagyu, I put it all away in my pack. I will dine well for the next few days.

It feels good to know that there's people out there caring about me.

It feels good to know that I have a chance at Victory.

...

 _ **Catherine Spark, 12, District 3 Female**_

 _"...it's better off that way."_

 _Ting ting ting ting ting ting ting..._

My eyes rove across the skies. What is that sound? Another mutt? A creeping tribute? A cruel trick by the Gamemakers to make me paranoid? Possibilities race through my mind like quicksilver, running into one another and mixing together. A tribute being chased by a mutt ringing a bell? The Gamemakers collapsing a building and making mutts rush out?!

The parachute lands softly on the sand at my feet, and I just chuckle. Silly, silly Catherine.

I peel off the mesh-like parachute, rubbing it between my fingers. Brittle. Wouldn't be of any use to try and catch fish with, as I was hoping it would. I toss the parachute part of the package to the side, and then I tear it open. My stomach growls tamely; it's not that bad, I've been much more hungry before. But the food piled inside the container makes my mouth water.

A steaming plate of strawberry waffles, drenched in syrup, sit there. I dig in immediately. From experience, I know waffles aren't the best cold. After I scarf them all down, the pit in my stomach has been mostly filled.

Then I spot the cookies and cream milkshake, and my heart melts like the sugary confection currently is.

I sip up the drink, and I drink about half of it before stopping. Even though it will just be frothy liquid when it melts, I'm so full I'm almost bursting, and I can't fit anything else down my throat. I grin happily at the skies before reading the note.

 _Great job sweetling. Here's some delicious sweets to hold you over. Watch out for others, okay? Come home soon. - Uriel_

I crumple the note and put it in my pocket. I might need to read that later for inspiration and to give me something to hold onto when I get scared.

The battle back will be hard, but I will be home before I know it. It _will_ happen. It has to.

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medicine. At the Cornucopia._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 7 arrows, spear, medicine, and pack full of food and water. In the northern jungle._

 _Catherine Spark: Sickle, half eaten bag of potato chips, half drunken pint of water, half drunken milkshake, iodine. On northern island IV._

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, energy drink, orange ice cream, wagyu, mushroom soup, and iodine. In the southern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, six throwing knives, machete, 5 packets of dried fruit, and a gallon of water. In one of the bars in the pool-bar area by the hotel._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe, Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, pack of crackers, and matches, and t_ _wo throwing knives,jerky strips, and empty water bottle_ _. At the southern beach._

 _Holly Burnett: Dagger, Pack with rope and crackers, and a quart of water. At the southern beach._

 _Hailea Himalayan: Throwing knife and water bottle. In the northern jungle._

...

 **A/N: No deaths! I hope you enjoyed this. If you have sponsor gifts for tributes that did not have POVs this chapter, they will receive them on Day 9. I will try to get Day 9 out ASAP.**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro, Olivanna Sanatorium**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Snake-seal mutt, Kiera Waters, Andrea Matches**

Cameron Spark -

 **Catherine Spark -**

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

Emmer Schuliare -

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine, Emmer Schuliare**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark**

Olivanna Sanatorium -

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

Bethany Taylor -

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

Andrea Matches -

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

 **Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General**

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano, Bethany Taylor, Emmer Schuliare (Assist)**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV?**

 **3\. Anything interesting/memorable?**

 **Thanks for reading, and please review if you can, it helps inspire me and it also helps get chapters out a lot faster.**

 **Day 9 up next, 8 tributes left...predicitions?**

 **Until next time,**

 **Tracee**


	27. Day 9: Screamers and Silencers

**A/N: Wow. It certainly has been a very long time, almost a month. I'm sorry everyone, really truly, but life has become a little crazier than usual. Updates will be getting much slower from here on out. On a more positive note, I'm thinking about doing a new SYOT. Not sure yet, but I might. Either I'll continue in this universe and do another set of tributes for the 12th Games, or I'll do something else, like a later Games. Another good thing: these Games are nearing their end with the Top 8 left. There's some death in this chapter. Enjoy! :)**

...

 _ **Holly Burnett, 16, District 8 Female**_

 _"Home. I wanted to go home."_

Food and water is running low, but Chen seems to be almost refusing that fact. There's only about a sixth of the water left, and it's pretty grimy, sloshing around drearily at the bottom of the plastic gallon container. Our food is nearly gone, only crumbs and a few strands of jerky left. Hunger is a constant feeling, and my throat always feels papery and dry. I let Chen eat a little more, drink a little more. I can't help it. He reminds me of someone I can't place. But...but...he's grown to become part of me. Killing him would be like removing a tumor back home. It's the only way to save someone, but without the proper attention and equipment, which normal 8ers lack, doing that act will lead to further issues and complications. If I leave Chen, if I kill him, I won't ever be the same. I won't ever be right. I'll just be screwed over, and I'll kill one of my best friends in the world just to probably die the next day or something like that. So I'll stick with him. He was a better chance of Victory anyway. Might as well help him.

He tries to make it seem like he's okay, like Bethany's death isn't bothering him at all. But I catch him dry heaving behind the rock, crouched on the shore. I catch him curled up in a tree while he's supposed to be looking for fruit, crying silently and tearlessly. I catch him hacking into a tree with his axe, demolishing some random plant. And, by the time noon comes on this 9th day of the Games, and I find him moping a bit, watching the waves, I lose it.

"Chen. Help me find some tinder," I bark. "I need to make a fire."

"Why?" he asks tiredly.

Really it's to cook a little deer we caught earlier, but my temper's been tested already too many times today. So I break.

"Why? WHY?! Because I'm trying to open your eyes, help you survive, Chen Evoncurst! You're trying to pretend that you're not sad, but you are, so just deal with it! Don't be all manly and gung ho. It's okay to show your feelings for God's sake!"

"I'm okay," Chen whispers.

"Oh screw it!" I scream. I pick up my sickle and take all of the water and half of the food. Chen watches, brow furrowed in anger, and he staggers to his feet as I storm off into the jungle. He picks up his axe and jogs after me.

"Holly!" he yells. "HOLLY!" I hear his axe whistling through the air, and I duck. Really, he's cutting through some vegetation that's in his way. But he's seen me duck. He realizes that I'm starting to lose my patience and my trust. We are in the Final 8. Alliances are usually long broken by now. It's good that I leave.

He starts running, and I do too. We crash through the jungle, and at some point the mood changes. It goes from anger and annoyance to fury and brutality. Before I know it, my feelings are sapped dry, and I'm running like my life depends on it, because it does. Chen's yelling a bit as he chases me, and I don't spare a look back, but I just can imagine him, red faced, frothing with annoyance. He's in a dangerous emotional state, and I may have pulled the pin on this grenade called Chen Evoncurst.

The root suddenly appears out of the forest floor. It materializes so damn fast that I'm almost sure that it is a Gamemaker trick. I fall face first into the dirt, and then I'm looking through smears of mud and crumpled brown leaves at Chen. Red faced and frothing, axe raised high. His sharpened iron weapon bites into my shoulder, and I scream as he snatches the water jug and food out of my hands. I curl up in a ball and cry piteously, and Chen seems to regain his composure.

"Holl...holly...goddamit I'm so sorry...goodbye Holly."

He dashes off, leaving me to lie alone, bleeding and possession-less, on the mucky forest floor. I moan and writhe. The shoulder wound is in no way mortal, but it hurts like hell. I also have no reason to get up at all. I'm going to die anyways. I'm always going to die. I'm always going to be that little girl, huddled in the alleyway, bleeding out onto the asphalt as the bullets and hovercraft whirl overhead and the smoke hangs in the air like a thick curtain.

 _I skid into the alleyway, screaming bloody murder as the red seeps through my ratty white dress and glues my hand to my side. My little feet trip me up and I fall to the ground, hand pressed to my wound instinctively. I scream and moan and beg and cry and no one hears me over the sounds of bombs exploding and guns firing in a loud chorus of clicking and booming. My world spins and darkens and I think I am going to die._

I think I am going to die. My life is near its end. Is there any point in even trying to stand, even trying to live? But I remember the rest of the story, and it prompts me to get on my hands and knees and crawl to safety within a bunch of bristly bushes.

 _Momma finds me after four hours, nearly bled out, the ground around me smeared in ash and blood. Carla clings to her, watching in fear as she picks me up and carries me home. Bandages and salves are pressed and massaged onto the wound, and my mother and Carla sing me sweet songs, nurturing me and making me feel safe and wanted. They pick me up and set me on my feet again, and I'm not scared until I go to bed and the shadows hound me._

Mom. Carla. Dad and Leah, too. If I don't do this for myself, I will do it for them. That day in the alley was a fluke, a miracle. I wouldn't have survived had I been out there for another thirty minutes to an hour. Miracles favor Holly Burnett. I need to take advantage of that. I have to hope that another miracle will come around and pull me out of these Games.

Somewhere in this time a cannon's fired, followed by another, but I don't know where. The world is blurred and my mind feels slow. Am I really alright? I'm not sure. I'm never sure. All I know is that two people are dead and five others are left. Their fuzzy faces fill the sky that night. Am I really okay? I don't think so.

For Mom. For Carla. For Dad. For Leah.

...

 _ **Catherine Spark, 12, District 3 Female**_

 _"The battle back will be hard, but I will be home before I know it. It_ will _happen. It has to."_

I patrol the jungle around me. I have ventured out of my little safe island to search for somewhere shady and hidden from the cameras to pee. I just don't feel comfortable peeing on the tiny island that I sleep, eat, and run around on. It just doesn't seem...right. It almost seems like wetting yourself or peeing the bed. So I find reclusive places on the jungle's edge to squat and do my business out of sight of even the Gamemakers and the audience, the entirety of Panem.

Recently it has sunk in that millions of eyes are watching nearly my every move. I wonder what my odds are back in the Capitol. Pretty terrible, I'd imagine. They're probably a little better in the slums of 3, where people bet for the crumbs the Peacekeepers toss out from their meals. That thought makes me a little angry, but I push that feeling down. No use in being angry. There's nothing to do with that anger.

I clutch my sickle tight in my left hand as I use my right hand to pull up my pants. I waddle out of the little group of bushes, picking up the pack I carry with me at all times that is also filled with some pure essentials: a few crackers and a few sips of water. I sling it across my shoulder, and then I start to march off to head back to the island.

I must have gone down the beach farther than I originally thought, because when I emerge from the jungle, my island is not in sight. In fact, all I see is water. There's usually several different islands in sight from any vantage point on the beach. But I see nothing. I just see glimmering blue ocean water, lapping at the sandy brown beach. In fact, the water looks darker in color. A dip of the finger into it reveals that it is chilly, no longer the relaxing tepid liquid it once was. It also apparently is much deeper, as two steps forward has the water sloshing up to my armpits. I reel backwards, backpedaling until I'm fully on the beach. I shake my wet body, sending a spray of salty water dancing in the air around me.

I immediately start jogging down the beach. I go at least a mile down the beach. Still no sight of even a grain of sand out in those now chilled, deep, foreboding ocean waters. It's well into the day when I give up the search, realizing that my island, my precious island with all of my food and water and everything else, is sunken and gone. The Gamemakers are not pleased with the action-less, deathless day prior. They want action. And if I'm right, there's a tribute or two in that jungle, and they want me to cross paths with them.

I'm not stupid. Realistically, the only tributes I could probably take in a fight are Hailea or the boy from 6, and maybe the girl from 8. If I see the Hailea, I'll ally with her. If I hadn't decided the island was my safest bet, I would have been searching for her nonstop since we got separated. And the boy from 6 and the girl from 8 seem to be the weaker stragglers like myself and Hail that have somehow survived towards the end. I doubt either will last much longer. Of course, that means I won't last much longer either. But never mind that. Facts like that just drag you down.

I head into the jungle, sincerely hoping the tribute the Gamemakers will inevitably send my way is not the girl from 2 or the boy from 1. They're strong volunteers and I really doubt I'll survive more than thirty seconds in either of their presences. That Chen boy from 7, the lovebird, or maybe the girl from 5, Caitlin is it, I could escape from with injury. I don't want to meet up with any of them.

As I stumble through the jungle, every rustle is bloodthirsty One leaping from the shadows, sword raised. Every breeze is the sound of Two's arrow whooshing through the air towards my jugular. Every birdcall is the correspondence between Chen and the girl from 8 as they encircle me, preparing to slay me. Paranoia takes every part of me and turns on the instinctual, animalistic modes. I have turned into a survival beast.

That's why I jump forward, sickle raised, when a blurry brown shape steps out of the bushes nearby, totally oblivious to my presence. The thing screams, a loud, pained, high pitched whine. My sickle slashes and slashes and slashes as dots fill my vision and warm liquid squirts all over my hands, face, and shirt.

BOOM!

The cannon knocks me out of my trance, and I look down at my blood smattered hands and my gore covered sickle. Then I glance down at my victim.

The frightened, unblinking eyes of Hailea Himalayan meet mine, and my scream sends every bird within a mile's radius flying and every tribute in the arena running towards me. I know I should stop screaming, but I can't.

I faint as the ground rushes towards my face. I've lost it all. I hope against hope that no one will find me as darkness fills my vision.

...

 _ **Cephas Gold, 18, District 1 Male**_

 _"Time to bring out the big guns."_

The morning sun glitters across the thick golden hide of the Cornucopia as I stroll around in tiredly. It really sucks to be alone. I'm not a sappy baby who needs someone to feed him with a bottle and burp him after every meal like the little 12 year olds that have miraculously survived, but it is nice to have partners who can take shifts of night watch or someone to help you hunt tributes and food alike. I sort of almost miss the early days in this arena, when Dameon, Emmer, and I would banter about, Kiera would just lay there with a small smile on her face, and Serephina would roll her eyes at our antics and stroll off to go inspect a nearby area for tributes. Now Dameon, Emmer, and Kiera are dead, and Serephina's arrows and spear will be trained on me if I ever happen into her crosshairs again. Things were so much more simpler then. So much more simple.

As noon comes, I decide to go hunting. There's not much left in the Cornucopia anyway, and I'm sure sponsors will supply me with food and water if I'm in that dire of a need. I find myself filling a pack with food, water, and bandages before stalking off past the empty, monolith-like pedestal ring and into the sandy, reed filled sand dunes.

I check a majority of the bars and restaurants as hours tick by. I find nothing, not even a crumb of recently eaten food or a dusty footprint. As I am about to head back to the Cornucopia, silent and a little ticked off from my failure, a cannon rings throughout the arena, breaking the silence.

BOOM!

I stand stock still, waiting strangely to see if anything else will happen. About thirty seconds after the cannon has faded from my ears, I hear high pitched wailing. It is so loud and so distraught that I know it must be one of the little 12 year old girls in pain or shocked from something or other. Has Serephina killed one of the girls, and is about to finish off the other? Two minutes of waiting reveals no more cannons, and the screaming cuts off suddenly about halfway through that period of time. I set off at a fast jog, which soon escalates to a steady run, as I burst towards the edge of the jungle.

Before I know it, I am sprinting through the jungle, leaping over upturned roots and rotting logs, dodging hanging branches and spiderwebs that are draped from the limbs of the trees above. I race through the jungle, and no one tells me to slow down. It feels glorious, really.

After thirty minutes of failed searching, I climb a tree. My hands lock around crooks in the tree branches as I haul myself to the upper part of the tallest tree I could find. Peering through the canopy, I spot the hovercraft floating nearby, waiting to retrieve the body of whatever tribute was felled earlier. There must be another tribute near the corpse. That's the only explanation. A hovercraft wouldn't float that close to the ground for any other reason besides releasing new mutts into the arena, and with the seal-snakes and the serpent and the jaguars and the parrots, I think the Gamemakers have abused their power to procreate monsters in these Games. And if it ends up being a mutt, oh well. I can fight it off. My grip tightens on the sword strapped to my waist via leather scabbard as I leap down several thick branches to the forest floor. I set off at a brisk jog in the direction of the waiting hovercraft.

The hovercraft is closer than I thought. As I push back a curtain of palm-tree like fronds from some sort of tall bush, I find myself standing in front of the two 12 year olds, one of them slain, the other unconscious, her hands wrapped around a bloody sickle. So the little girl killed the other little girl. Plot twist, am I right?

Suddenly the leaves of a nearby tree part as the head of a spear juts out of the foliage. I slink back into the shadows and watch as the spear is thrown into the ground. There's a great amount of rustling and scraping noises, and then Serephina Manchas, the accursed bitch of Two, drops from the branches like a black cat, like a terrible omen. I watch as she strides towards knocked out Three, spear raised, mouth curled in an ugly frown that tampers with her pretty face. She stands there for a minute, staring at the girl oddly, spear hoisted six inches above her temple. Can she just kill the girl?

"Having trouble, Manchas?" I boom, standing up from my crouch. With a flick of my wrist, my blade flies out of its scabbard. I put both hands on the handle and chuckle at Serephina as I advance, twigs snapping under my shoes.

"No...no trouble," Serephina stutters. "None at all. Now just...just hurry along, Gold."

"Let me finish that for you." I step forward confidently. Serephina takes a step back instinctively, leaving enough room between us for me to twirl my blade through the air and plant it in the chest of little, bony Three. The cannon fires moments after I've hacked into her chest. Serephina just stares at me incredulously.

BOOM!

"No...no trouble," I sing in a high pitched voice, mocking Serephina as I grin in glee. Serephina glowers at me before turning on her heel and sprinting away.

"Where are ya going, Manchas? Running away to your brother? Oh right, _he's dead!"_

The arrow plants itself in my shoulder before I can even begin to chuckle at my own taunt. I gasp and stagger backwards, and Serephina steps close to me, staring at me angrily. I know I've made a mistake bringing Garry Manchas into the equation.

"We're going to give them a good show, Gold. Maybe they'll give you a gold star in heaven when I'm done with you if you put up a good fight, eh?"

I'm off like a shot, dodging her second arrow and sprinting through the jungle. The names people back home must be calling me now. _Coward. Retard. Fool. Jackass. Embarrassment. Jester. Playboy. Show-Off._

Then again, maybe I've just been a prissy ignorant boy all along, and now I'm just starting to realize it.

Sure. Like Cephas Gold has been _prissy._ Hmph. I'm _honorable._

I almost expect Serephina to drop out of the trees I'm running past and squawk some crap about honor that her Peacekeeper parents force-fed her for breakfast when they trained her and Garry in the basement to kill other kids. But she doesn't. I just keep sprinting until I reach the Cornucopia. I collapse inside the golden Horn. I must have wandered a lot in my run back, or maybe hunting down Three took longer than I thought it had. Or maybe I drifted off for a nap. But either way, night as swiftly arriving. I ate some, drank some, stared at the sky some. Not soon enough, the faces of Three and Eleven, the two minuscule, stupid 12 year old girls, are glowing in the sky. That's the last attention they'll ever get. I suppress a jeer and let the faces of the girls pass in peace and silence. Once the countenances of the two dead girls are gone, I allow myself to curl up in a sleeping bag within the Cornucopia for two hours of resting and recharging. The second I close my eyes, I'm asleep. I'm always tired these days.

But I'm not too tired to go ahead and win these Games.

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medicine, along with water and food galore. At the Cornucopia._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 6 arrows, spear, medicine, and pack full of food and water. In the northern jungle._

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, energy drink, orange ice cream, wagyu, mushroom soup, and iodine. In the southern jungle._

 _Steale Boeing: Rope, six throwing knives, machete, 5 packets of dried fruit, and a gallon of water. In the hotel._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe, Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, pack of crackers, and matches, and t_ _wo throwing knives,jerky strips, and empty water bottle_ _. At the southern beach._

 _Holly Burnett: Nothing. In the southern jungle._

...

 **A/N: Two dead, six left to play. I hope the ends of these two weren't too gruesome. They were both well liked, but it's pretty unrealistic that either of them lasted past the bloodbath, not to mention to the Top 8, so I thought it was time for the both of them to go. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Now it's just Cephas, Serephina, Caitlin, Steale, Chen, and Holly.**

 **8th: Hailea Himalayan, 12, District 11 Female - Sickle to the chest, stomach, and neck by Catherine Spark, District 3 Female**

 **Hailea was a fun little girl. At first she seemed like she might be a Rue clone, but she sort of bypassed that and grew into her own character. The sisterly abuse, as well as her killing of Natalia in retribution for Bison's death, really gave her that emotional depth that some characters in SYOTs often lack. Soon after she, Liv, and Catherine got split up, however, I knew she wouldn't last very long. She was a great character but was never Victor material at all. I never actually planned for her to make it into the Top 8. Originally she was dying around 14th or 15th, but no matter. My condolences to Mrs. Himalayan, although I'm sure Heidi is pleased with the slaughter of her sister, sadly. You were a fun little character, Hail. That's your last one, I Read To Escape The World. You haven't reviewed much. Are you still reading?**

 **7th: Catherine Spark, 12, District 3 Female - Sword to the chest by Cephas Gold, District 1 Male**

 **Catherine, Catherine, Catherine. You were my Victor for a good half of the Pre-Games, and for small parts of time while I was writing the actual Games. Having a twin was sort of cliched, but you grew out of that in my opinion, and you were a unique character and were your own person and character, not just "one of the twins." I had a whole plan to make your Victory believable, but to be honest, you shouldn't have lasted this long. You had some skill and some wit but not enough to truly win these Games. At least now you and Cameron reside together in the afterlife, and hopefully you two can make amends. I really enjoyed writing you, Catherine. You were one of my favorite characters. I'm so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Spark. You're childless! :( Thanks to Scar-the-Beta-Wolf for this wonderful little girl! Godspeed, Catherine. I will miss you.**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro, Olivanna Sanatorium, Catherine Spark**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Kiera Waters, Andrea Matches**

Cameron Spark -

Catherine Spark - Hailea Himalayan

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

Emmer Schuliare -

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine, Emmer Schuliare**

 **Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark**

Olivanna Sanatorium -

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

Bethany Taylor -

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

Andrea Matches -

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano, Bethany Taylor, Emmer Schuliare (Assist)**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least favorite POV?**

 **3\. Surprised by the deaths?**

 **4\. Who's your pick for Victor?**

 **Thank you all for reading, and again I am so sorry for the month long wait. Please review if possible. Thanks again, and keep an eye open for the next chapter, Day 10, and possibly a new SYOT! :)**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Tracee**


	28. Day 10: A Noose

**A/N: Here's another chapter! Be on the lookout, I'm thinking of possibly posting the next SYOT rather soon. It will be a bit different from this one, and it will be the 22nd Hunger Games instead of the 12th Hunger Games. I'm not 100% sure I'm doing it. I'll see. I'm thinking about ending this in another day or two, so these next few chapters will be the last in the arena, and they should all be action packed. They** **also might not be too long and more action centered. Enjoy! :)**

...

 _ **Steale Boeing, 15, District 6 Male**_

 _"Mom, here I come. You won't be alone any longer."_

My body is slimmer than ever. I feel all my bones, and my body is angular and sharp at the points. Loose skin sags a bit at my stomach and arms where my fat reserves have left me. Hunger is an ever present feeling, its blunt, rusty blade stabbing relentlessly between my ribs and through my belly button. I have enough water for now, but all my dried fruit is gone, and I have nothing left.

Now I'm holed up in the hotel. The structure is large and looms over the rest of the arena. It's a great vantage point, but it lacks sufficient supplies of food. To get food, I'll have to venture into the jungle in due time. And to venture into the jungle is to pass by Cephas Gold, who almost constantly is sweeping the dunes around the Cornucopia clearing. I can't take a guy like him. I'll be toast the moment my too skinny body slips past the pools and bars. But I'd rather die a quick, bloody death over a slow, prolonged one from starvation and dehydration.

The morning is spent agonizing over my choice. Should I stay or should I go? There's only six of us left. I've made it farther than I could have ever dreamed, and I helped take out two of the tributes along the way. I bet no one in the Capitol saw that coming. I could wait it out up here until there's only a couple of others left. Then again, those that will be left will most likely be either Cephas, Serephina, the loverbird, or the girl from 5. They'll all be able to overpower me. Hell, the girl from 8 got a 6, I think. Even she's stronger than me. The only way I win this is deception and some great doses of luck, along with the very rare possibility that the Capitol actually _likes_ me. I doubt that they like me. They're raining gifts on Cephas, on Serephina, on lovebird, on 5. They don't rain gifts on boys from 6 who scores 5's and tie knots and find themselves contemplatively making nooses with the length of rope he has in his hands.

By noon, my growling stomach wins out. Taking my machete and my coil of rope, I slip out of the hotel as the midday sun glitters overhead, shining across the island that I've been trapped on for 10 days now. This will probably be the island I die on, too. How do I want to die? Preferably without pain or blood. Something simple, like poison. Like suicide.

 _No, no, no. Steale Boeing, you're in the Top Six! You cannot kill yourself. You have to keep going. Underdogs win sometimes._

That was before these "Careers" like Cephas and Serephina started appearing on the scene. No one who can't kill has won since Uriah Matherton. Hell, even complacent, calm Pumpkin Little killed three tributes in her day. You don't make it out of the Games or pull a Uriah Matherton anymore. Uriah Matherton isn't a strategy. It's a single occurrence, a novelty, that worked out when the Games were new and the Gamemakers were stupid enough to let a depressed little boy from 8 win the Games on accident. Pulling a Uriah Matherton is more like pulling a miracle than using a strategy to win the Games.

I hit the sandy dunes and I run fast, bending my back so I stay low and out of sight. I make sure to keep my footing sure and steady. I haven't seen Cephas yet. He wasn't in the Horn, but I didn't see him patrolling the area either. I just need to make it to the jungle...

I spot him immediately. He's peeing, his back turned to me. I skid to a halt and turn tail, fleeing the other way, but my foot drags across a rock as I turn. I fall face first with a loud, high pitched yelp into the sand. I hear the sound of a zipper and someone turning. Cephas looks at me with hungry eyes and a wide, shimmering, toothy grin, sword raised. I scramble to my feet, abandoning my machete on the ground. The only thing I have now is the rope stuffed in my pockets, and my legs to carry me away from this monster who will surely slaughter me.

He pounds against the ground behind me, and I know he's stronger and healthier than me if not a little faster. I conjure up every bit of strength I have in my body to sprint through the dunes, past the pools and bars, and into the hotel lobby. He's about ten feet behind me now, my twisting and turning maneuvers in the pool-bar area having slowed his larger, heavier, taller frame down. I gallop up the stairs, mouth frothing with saliva, breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. I burst onto the second floor and heave open the door to the closest room. I lock it behind me, and seconds later there is intense pounding on the door and the sound of Cephas' muffled voice, making taunts I can't quite make out.

I look around quickly. The room is empty except for a rotting old bed and a brass ceiling fan that hangs from the ceiling, collecting dust. There isn't even a window. I pull the rope out of my pocket and look around some more. The door rattles. Cephas is banging the pommel of his sword against the door. He'll be in in due time. I heave in a big breath, and then realize what I must do.

I was never a rebellious boy, but I know what this act will be interpreted as. I pray to some God, if there is one, that my mother will be okay and that they'll all take this as the simple cowardice it is. I am the boy who ties knots. That's all I am. The scared little boy who'd rather hang himself than meet the blade of Cephas Gold.

I quickly make a noose and string the rope from the ceiling fan. Making sure it's tight, I use the bed as a stepping stool. Then I drape the rope around my neck and step off of the bed quickly.

I fall, and the rope clinches tight around my throat. It's unimaginably tight and painful, and I squirm in midair, my hands and feet pawing at open air. I want to scream, but I can't get anything out with the rope snug around my neck. I've done it. I'm dying. I've killed myself. The door begins to splinter, but my vision is already filling with black. I hiss lightly as Cephas steps into the room through a large, jagged hole in the door. The moment he's through, everything's gone, and I hear a far off, thunderous noise. All I am is the boy who ties knots...

...

 ** _Cephas Gold, 18, District 1 Male_**

 _"But I'm not too tired to go ahead and win these Games."_

BOOM!

I stare with distaste, puzzled, at the boy hanging limply in front of my. The rough rope he's made a noose with chafes his now cooling neck, and it's superiorly tight. He's killed himself. The wimp of a boy from 6 has killed himself.

I scoff a little to myself as I use my sword to slice his bloated corpse down. All that work, smashing open the door and all, to find my prey already dead? What a killjoy, this scamp was. He deserves a worse fate than choking himself to death. In my opinion, a quick slash of the sword to the throat would kill you faster than a slow, hideous suffocation on the end of a cheap coil of rope.

I drag his corpse down the stairs, through the lobby, and out into the sunlight for the hovercraft to retrieve. That way his body won't be stinking up the arena. After all, I doubt the hovercraft can fit its claw inside the interior rooms of the second floor. I'm being courteous, earning a few brownie points with the Gamemakers I hope. Not that I need help, not that I need _them._ They need _me._ I'm the charming hero of this story after all. Who would they have win these Games instead of me? A sniveling bitch whimpering about honor while she cries over the bodies of dead little 12 year olds from the Outer Districts? A traumatized girl from a backwater District like 8? (Snow knows they _cannot_ be the second District to get two Victors.) A sappy lovebird who's probably crying out his eyeballs right now and killing himself of dehydration? The sneaky little scamp from 5 who's too cowardly to even face her kills before she kills them? No, no, I'm the only choice for them. I'm the only one that they can take to the end and safely say "The Victor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games is _!"

As I jog back to the Cornucopia, I watch the hovercraft descend and smile smugly to myself. Four others left to exterminate. None of them should give me trouble. I have an easy coast to Victory. None of the stupid Outliers have a chance against me no matter what they scored in training (my trainer Keith used to say that they gave larger scores to Outliers more often). Serephina, I hated even thinking her name, was broken and terrorized by the arena. Who hesitates to kill an unconscious 12 year old? Not a real woman. Not a real Career.

I sit down in the gaping, toothless mouth of the Golden Horn, inspecting my supplies. There's lots of weapons around, some tents, and some other useless supplies. There's probably four day's food left for one person, and five day's worth of water left, and that's rationing it comfortably. The Games should be over before I use up all of that. I'll be full, my thirst quenched, while the others are struggling to scrape up enough food and water to survive. Why, that boy from 6 that just died probably weighed only 90 pounds! He was a bag of skin and bones. He'd lost any muscle he'd had and most of the fat he'd had. If the others were in similar conditions to him, which I was sure they were, then it would just be so much easier. After all, emaciated tributes are so fun to play with. Taunt them with food, and laugh as you watch their blood fly as you dice them to little pieces. Wow, I'm rather bloodthristy right now. I need to sate that. I was supposed to have my fun, my pleasure with that boy. But he decided to be a little ass and kill himself. I...I need to go _kill._ A wide grin splits open on my face. _Kill._

I take off without a thought, carrying only my sword and my intense hunger of adrenaline and the spilling of blood. I sprint through the dunes, ignoring the sand that sprays around me as I gallop forward. I cackle loudly, with glee. I'm running...north? I really don't care. But I am going to kill! I AM GOING TO KILL!

I spin through the jungle once I reach it, my outstretched sword thwacking against surrounding trees and bushes as I giggle and run around and twirl. Where are my prey? Where are the little crying girls, begging for me not to cut off their heads? They better not have any rope! I DO THE KILLING! _I. DO. THE. KILLING. YOU DO NOT KILL YOURSELF IN MY PRESENCE!  
_

A little silvery package thunks onto the ground next to me. I slow down long enough in my chaotically intense dance through the jungle to snap off the parachute and crack open the silvery metal case to see what it holds inside. I pull out a pretty little metal rod, the type used to sharpen a knife or other bladed weapon. I grin and begin sharpening my sword with vigor as I read the note from my Mentor, Esquiria.

 _Calm down, buddy. You're driving the sponsors away with your crazy antics. It's fun to be bloodthirsty but turn it down a bit. - Esqy_

"CALM DOWN?! I'M CALM, BITCH! NO ONE TELLS CEPHAS GOLD THAT HE IS CRAZY DUMBASS ESQY!" I scream at the heavens before cackling some more. Night is starting to fall. The day surely is passing quickly. Didn't I enter the jungle at around one? How is it almost time for the anthem?

Oh, you were looking for people to kill.

 _Kill..._

...

 _ **Holly Burnett, 16, District 8 Female**_

 _"For Mom. For Carla. For Dad. For Leah."_

I hiss in pain as I inspect the wound. It's puffy and yellow, and I curse myself over and over. I know wound stitching. I know basic medical things. I knew how to prevent this. Then again, it's not my fault that I have literally nothing, and that the debilitating hunger, thirst, and pain have all combined to leave me laying on the forest floor, dazed and tired and unable to care for my cuts and scrapes and axe wounds. I squeeze my eyes shut and beg Uriah quietly, in a husky whisper of a voice, for medicine, for food, for water, for a sickle, for a needle and thread, for a friend, for Mommy and Daddy and Carla and Leah because I'm going to slip away soon and I can't take it! I growl and shift on the damp forest floor, stiffening my body in annoyance, distraught with my situation.

I've tried to get up and move around a lot, and I've shuffled around a bit, moved my location a couple dozen feet every other hour or so. But the pain in my shoulder, the wound dripping liquidy yellow puss, makes me take a longer breather than normal. I know that I need to find water, and food, and medical attention. I can't go back to Chen no matter how much I want to. I heard a cannon a couple of hours earlier, and some manic, far off laughter. Is that him? I wouldn't be surprised if he'd broken like so many do during the Games. Heck, I'm close to breaking myself if this wound doesn't get better and I don't find food and water soon.

After some time, I make myself stand and walk. My tired, drooping eyes search for low hanging fruit and pools of water, neither of which exist in this world. There are no miracles in this world, in this arena, in this place, on this island, on this hellish land, on this godforsaken chunk of land stranded in the sea. I am going to die of hunger, or thirst, or infection. Infection will probably get me first. The wound is infected bad from only a day. Probably yet another Gamemaker trick to manipulate me, to play with my emotions, to squander my hope and grind my face into the dirt.

As night begins to fall, crackling fills the arena. I quirk an eyebrow as the flowing voice of the arena announcer and Hunger Games co-host Faustina LeBoreaux fills the empty, humid jungle night. The creaking trees and chirping birds and bugs fall silent for the announcement, but a tribute doesn't. As Faustina clears her throat, I hear far off, broken yells and the whacking off something against a tree. I am scared. There is an insane person in this vicinity. I know it doesn't matter, and that being slaughtered might be better than dying of a painful infection, but fear still courses through my veins as Faustina begins to speak.

"At noon tomorrow, there will be the 3rd Feast in Hunger Games history at the Cornucopia. There is something that all of you need. What you need will be waiting there for you. Good day, and see those of you daring enough to travel at the Cornucopia tomorrow."

I squeeze my eyes shut, cursing Faustina LeBoreaux and the Capitol and the entire world and the goddamn wound on my shoulder and Chen Evoncurst. Yes, Chen Evoncurst. Because he axed me in the shoulder after we had a little spat and left me here to rot, now I will have to go to the Feast. The past two years have had Feasts as well. There's the tributes like Serephina and Cephas surely are, fit and fed and strong. Then there's the tributes like me, weak, desperate, the Feast their last chance at survival. Guess who's the first to die? The ones like me.

But I don't have a choice. I'd rather die on the end of an arrow or at sword point if it meant a quick, easy death. A big flash of pain and then it's over. I'd rather have that instead of sitting here for a couple of more days, then dying of dehydration or infection, or, if they get bored, a mutt that will tear me limb for limb. And on the off chance that I actually make it out of the Feast alive, then I'll have food, water, medicine, and a fresh start. Once that happens (which it won't) then I'll ponder what my next steps in the action plan/road map to Victory will be.

I wonder who else would head to the Feast. Cephas and Serephina for sure, to get the easy pickings like me and take our supplies. I'm not sure about Chen. He's a wildcard, although I think he has enough supplies for now to sustain himself. The girl from 5, whose name I cannot remember for the life of me, is the only one I have no clue about. I don't know anything about her. I haven't even seen her since the countdown. I've spent over a week with Chen and seen far-off glimpses of Serephina and Cephas and seen their conquests flash across the sky. But possibly she had a hand in the rather early deaths of the likes of Dameon and Kiera? I shall never know unless I make it out of this arena.

I drag myself halfway up a tree as night fully falls so I'll be able to see who died today. It's a slow going, and it feels like every flame in hell is searing my shoulder to a crisp, but besides that everything is rather dandy. I position myself in a crook in the branches and tear down some leaves, making an opening in the canopy. I sit there, breathing raggedly, my eyes drooping. I manage to catch the face of the boy from 6 before my eyelids quiver and fall shut. I'm out before I can even process the fact that I'm falling asleep with four killers roving around me, waiting to take me down before they leap at each other's throats.

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Cephas Gold: Sword, three throwing knives, and medicine, along with water and food galore. At the Cornucopia._

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 9 arrows, spear, medicine, and pack full of food and water. In the northern jungle._

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 10 arrows, crackers, energy drink, orange ice cream, wagyu, mushroom soup, and iodine. In the southern jungle._

 _Chen Evoncurst: Axe, Pack with dried fruit, iodine, empty water bottle, bandages, pack of crackers, and matches, and t_ _wo throwing knives, jerky strips, and empty water bottle_ _. At the southern beach._

 _Holly Burnett: Nothing. In the southern jungle._

...

 **A/N: Another one gone, 5 left to compete, and the almighty action of the Feast looming in the next day, Day 11. We're really nearing the end here, and I'm getting excited. I've had my three choices for Victor since we hit the Top 12, and now I think I've decided for sure on the Victor of this 10th Hunger Games. In a matter of days you'll all know who I've selected to take the Victor's Crown from President Gaius Snow, but there's still four deaths and plenty of action and angst to enjoy before we get there.**

 **6th: Steale Boeing, 15, District 6 Male - Hung by himself, Steale Boeing, District 6 Male**

 **I originally had Steale dying on the third day by the same fate, but somehow he just kept surviving and surviving. He was pretty fun to write in the middle portion of the Games, and I loved all of his trickery with Bianca and Cameron and his relationship with Caitlin. He was very emotional and a bit naive and a bit downtrodden, and he was rather realistic to me, and I think that's why he lasted as long as he did. Still, he was the boy who tied knots, the boy who scored a 5. He was a little boy in an arena of giants, and he was going to get crushed sooner or later. I appreciated having him around and he was fun to dabble with. It was also nice to see him stir the pot a little with his quasi-rebellious act of committing suicide. Just to clarify, his mother is alive and well; she just couldn't bear the thought of watching the Games, so she ran away and hid in her sister's basement until the Games were over. She will be proud that he son lasted longer than she could have ever dreamed, and that he left the arena in his own memorable way. Thank you, Maveriqua, for the normal guy who managed to make it farther than any of us could have imagined. Thanks for reviewing regularly. :)**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

 **Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro, Olivanna Sanatorium, Catherine Spark**

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Kiera Waters, Andrea Matches**

Cameron Spark -

Catherine Spark - Hailea Himalayan

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

Emmer Schuliare -

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine, Emmer Schuliare**

Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark, Steale Boeing (Himself)

Olivanna Sanatorium -

 **Chen Evoncurst -**

Bethany Taylor -

Burlap Thomasson -

 **Holly Burnett -**

Calix Jackson -

Andrea Matches -

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano, Bethany Taylor, Emmer Schuliare (Assist)**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Favorite POV?**

 **2\. Least Favorite POV?**

 **3\. Steale: Coward or Rebel?**

 **4\. Thoughts on the upcoming Feast?**

 **Thank you guys for reading! Only a three week wait this time xD I will really really try to get chapters out faster. And, also, Caitlin is doing fine. She hasn't gotten a POV in a few days, but she's healthy and nothing's really happened to her. She will appear in the Feast chapter, however. I'm planning for the Feast to be a behemoth chapter. :)**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Tracee**


	29. Day 11: Feasting

**A/N: I'll be brief. We have a Feast today, and action packed one for sure! I just wanted to let you know about** ** _Blow Me Over: The 22nd Annual Hunger Games._** **It is the sequel to this story, taking place 12 years after this story. After this chapter, there will be 1 or 2 more chapters of Games, then a few chapters of epilogue about the Victor. Only a handful of chapters left, and then my focus can turn to** ** _BMO._** **Go submit if you want! It's a bit different from** ** _Oceanside_** **here, and I hope you decide to submit and see what happens to our tributes in that story. But, for now let's focus on our tributes here. We have five left: Mr. Gold, Ms. Manchas, Ms. Theardie, Mr. Evoncurst, and Ms. Burnett. Who will survive the Feast, and who will emerge Victorious very soon? Read to find out :)**

...

 _ **Holly Burnett, 16, District 8 Female**_

 _"But I don't have a choice."_

Morning light shines through the small interstices between the waxy green leaves of the canopy. I thought I had settled on a plan of action last night. I would go to the Feast, right? I would go for the medicine that would save me, the medicine that would give me salvation and help me survive? I would risk my life heavily just so I would die at a blade instead of from infection, correct?

My legs refuse to move. I yell at myself, punch the loosely packed dirt of the forest floor, throw a shower of decaying leaves into the air. But my shoulder is puffy with yellow pus and it is dirty, streaks of dirt slicing through the unhealthy yellow-green cut on my shoulder. I hiss in pain whenever I move. Things start coming slower, and all I can feel or think about is the anxiously throbbing wound on my shoulder. My growling stomach and parched throat slice through the haze of the wound's pain every now and then, but every moment is filled with the purest of agony.

I finally manage to stagger to my feet and drag myself forward. The sun is slowly rising towards its ascent, and I scream audibly, out loud, at myself to move faster. My only chance is to get there before Cephas, before Chen, before Serephina, before the girl from 5. I need to be _first._ That is the only way I'll end up being, well, first, at the end of these Games.

My feet churn up mud and dead plant material as I drag myself forward. Thoughts flash through my hazy, disoriented mind. Is this jungle never ending? Did I pass that tree before? Are the Games real? Is everything a simple illusion, a simple dream, like that day in the alleyway? Is that Chen I see, axe raised, running towards me, screaming bloody murder? It can't be. Nothing is right.

Then I see that it actually _is_ Chen hurtling towards me. His face has a look of pity intermingled with determination, and two thoughts come to my mind as I make my feet shuffle faster away from this boy. First off, why does he look pitifully at me? I must look pretty beat up. Second off, who is this monster trying to kill me? What happened to the Chen Evoncurst that snuggled with Bethany underneath a sea of stars and made joking predictions about the deaths with Andi and stared silently at the sea with me in thought? All I know is that this is a different Chen. This is a rabid, anxious, needy Chen, who thirsts for this Games to be over. I understand him. But I also know that I would never kill him, and here he is, axe raised, ready to cleave my head from my shoulders.

As the axe whistles through the air, my body moves on pure instinct, merely ducking the swing of the weapon. More instincts propel me forward, and Chen pursues me. I almost trip once, and I swear out loud, screaming at the Gamemakers that they better not put any more fricking roots in my way. I find my path after that suspiciously clear of anything, just flat, descriptionless dirt.

Soon enough, the jungle edge arrives. I burst through, hurtling a small stretch of bushes and sprinting off into the dunes. My shoulder screams at me, my stomach and throat throbbing angrily, and my mouth trying to conjure spit I don't have to moisten my dry mouth. My legs ache from lack of use and my eyes are beading with invisible tears because I don't have enough water in me to produce actual tears. I sniff and whimper and scream as I skid through the dunes. I turn around once, and see Chen slowing as he pursues me. He is scared of what I have become. An animal, a mindless creature that's only thought is dumb survival. Well, screw it. If I get to survive, that's all that matters to me.

Chen is still running at me, so I keep running. We both tumble down the last dune and are deposited on the open, sandy Cornucopia field. A ring of 24 silvery pedestals glints in the noonday sun, and the golden Horn glistens alluringly. And a brass table sits in the mouth of the Cornucopia. 5 lime green bags sit on it, labeled with a _1,_ a _2,_ a _5,_ a _7,_ and an _8_ respectively. My eyes lock on the lime green bag marked with a giant black _8_. I sprint towards it, and stumble to the table. I tear open the pack and find a loaf of District 8's nutty bread, a bottle of water, and a small tube of pink healing cream. I squirt the cream onto my left hand and smear it across my wound, sighing in relief. The cream is cool and refreshing and everything feels better almost immediately.

I guess now that I can feel things other than pain, my instincts have shut off, because now Chen is standing over me, frowning, axe lofted high. I scream, trying to roll out of the way, but I'm trapped between him and the Feast table. I try to push over the Feast table, grab one of the packs to use as a shield. But of course my shoulder, while curing, is still in a terrible state, and I can't reach. And, anyway, the axe is already on a one way trip to my chest.

I don't make a sound when the blade of Chen's axe thunks into my chest, breaking my sternum and crushing my lungs. All I see is an alley, gunfire, ash, and hovercrafts whirling above, instead of Chen and a baby blue sky and a sandy beach and a vivid jungle and an abandoned hotel. All I see is my family, linked hand in hand, as I die at the hands of who I thought was my best friend in the arena.

BOOM!

...

 _ **Chen Evoncurst, 17, District 7 Male**_

 _"I hope this ends soon."_

BOOM!

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I ignore them. I push Holly's limp body, which is slung across the Feast table, to the ground carefully. I push away the fact that her blood coats my axe, and that her eyes are glassy, immovable orbs staring blankly at the teal island sky. I give my old friend pity and honor, closing her eyelids, before grabbing her pack and mine. Mine has another axe and a bottle of water in it. Caitlin's has extra arrows and a pair of extra purple glasses, and Serephina's has extra arrows and a picture of her brother or boyfriend, I'm guessing. Cephas's has a book on handling your moods along with a cake and a Bowie knife. As I'm debating what to take, what to throw in the ocean, and what to leave, I hear noises behind me.

Of course, I've lingered far too long. Holly and I got here luckily early, right after the Feast table rose out of the sandy ground. I forgot that Serephina, Cephas, and possibly Caitlin would be close behind. How stupid of me. It will probably be my fatal mistake.

As I turn around to face whoever else is here, time slows down. My heartbeat slows to a beat an hour, and my breath leaves my lips at the speed of a quarter of a mile an hour. My eyes slowly blink, and I reminisce on the prior events of the day, probably my last day alive.

I woke up at dawn, preparing for the Feast. I heard Holly screaming and knew I had to be her. I hunted her down, planning on giving the wounded girl, an old friend, an easy end. It didn't quite work out. I must have been too imposing, or she was already so far gone that she acted on pure instinct. But she fled like a bunny being chased by a fox, and the hunt began in earnest.

I chased her through the jungle, swerving around trees and sprinting through undergrowth and thorns and past jungle creatures. We broke through the jungle and dashed across the dunes and brambles where we once huddled with Andi and Bethany in hiding. My legs got cut up a bit but I didn't give a crap. I pursued her past the pedestals and to the Cornucopia, where she tore open her pack and applied her medicine. She looked at peace, and I could've allied with her again then, and we could have worked together. But my instinct took over. She was still wounded, weak. It would be easier to just take her out now, right? I guess my gut instinct had agreed with that question, and I had, without thinking, cleaved open her chest and killed her. Now she is dead, laying nearby, a bloody rift in her chest, her eyes unblinking, her arms unmoving, her lips unspeaking, her mind unthinking.

I think of Bethany's lips on mine, her body intertwined with mine, her with mine. When she left, everything fell to shambles. Holly left and I hurt her. I barely survived. I'm still depressed. It'll take forever to get over Bethany. Maybe it will just be easier to die here and now, and not face the consequences of a lifetime of guilt and heartbreak. Maybe it would be easier to accept the arrow of Serephina or Caitlin that's surely hurtling at me, or maybe let the blade of Cephas, arcing through the air at the current moment, slice into my neck and end me.

I think of my father. I think of my dead mother. I think of my friends. I think of Bethany. I think of Holly. I think of Andi. I think of Oakes, his lost lover. I think of Dyanna. I think of everyone that has ever suffered like I am about to. Caitlin, Serephina, or Cephas?

The sword slices open my stomach in one swift movement, and time resumes its usual tempo. I double over, blood gushing between the gaps between my fingers. I rasp out a whiny, high pitched scream, and Cephas cackles, bringing his sword down again on my neck. More blood sprays, and I fall to the ground, twitching, landing on top of still, cooling Holly.

Is it wrong, that as I die, I wish it was Bethany beneath me, so we could have one final embrace in death?

BOOM!

...

 _ **Cephas Gold, 18, District 1 Male**_

 _"Kill..."_

Bloody boy! BLOODY BOY! HAH!

Dead girl by table, chest bloody. Boy, with bloody axe, at table. Cephas-boy, with sword, soon bloody from slicing slicing slicing slicing KILLING chen-boy-lovebird-boy-lumber-boy-tough-boy-everything-boy-now-bloody-boy. Hehehehe!

Tall girly girl, the bitchy bitch, ooh, she needs to be made bloody too! Mwahahaha! Bloody! Oh, shiny bow! Shiny spear! Duck! Parry! Duck! Parry! Ow! Arrow...arrow in Cephas-boy chest? Cephas-boy not Victor? Cephas-boy DYING?!

Ow. Ow. Ow. Cephas-boy bloody. Not tall girly girl. Cephas-boy bloody.

BOOM!

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, District 2 Female**_

 _"I will win this, no matter what I have to do. If not for myself, then for the Manchas family name. For District 2. For Garry."_

BOOM!

Cephas broke. It happens to the best of us. It happened to Garry's District partner, Lauetia, last year in the Top 8 after she killed her ally, the girl from 10. And Cephas wasn't the best of us. It was actually a bit pleasing to see Cephas, cackling with manic glee, his eyes glossed over with insanity. I was actually extremely pleasing to watch my arrow puncture his chest, and to watch him drop suddenly, his sword rolling away in the sand, his eyes wide open in shock, mouth twisted in an unpleasant, half shocked, half angry scowl. Now three carcasses litter the Cornucopia field; Cephas, the girl from 8, who is disgustingly wounded, and the loverbird boy, Chen is it? Yes, Chen. They're all dead. That means that only my fellow archer, Caitlin from 5, is the only other tribute left alive in this arena.

I cannot believe it. We're in the Top 2, like Garry was last year. My heart thumps wildly. My composure has rarely broken this entire Games, but now I start to shake. I feel the truest fear I've felt yet. To distract myself, I step over the corpses of Chen, 8-girl, and Cephas to reach the bags. I grab every single one, restocking on my arrows and feeding myself food aplenty and applying 8-girl's medicine to some minor cuts on my arms from climbing trees in the jungle.

The table drops away twenty minutes later. I take a stroll, inspecting some of the pools and bars. The hovercraft makes three trips to retrieve the bodies of Chen, Cephas, and 8-girl. When it's finally swooping away with Cephas clenched tight in its metal claws, I jog back to the Cornucopia and sit down inside. I sort supplies and clean my bow and arrows and my spear and anything else I can find.

Soon I find myself thinking about my first night in this arena, sitting around the fire with Kiera, Cephas, Dameon, and Emmer. Dameon was the first to go, followed by Kiera, and then Emmer, and Cephas just died at my hands minutes ago. I am the last Career. I am the last killer. The girl from 5, Caitlin, may have not killed anyone at all. Then again, she probably did kill my District partner, Dameon. Not that I care much, but still. That shows that she won't be frightened to kill. This will make my mission a bit harder, but I will still succeed.

Tomorrow will be the final showdown, and I will be prepared.

22 tributes have lost their lives in this arena, their existences snuffed out forever. I cannot be the 23rd. I cannot be another second like Garry. I cannot shame the Manchas family again. Garry is noble. I will never forget him. That is why I have to survive. So I can remember him, and give him the memory and honor he truly deserves. I will win this for everyone who has ever cared about me. I will win this.

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"It feels good to know that I have a chance at Victory."_

I decide that I do not need to go to the Feast. It's a high risk, high reward sort of affair, and I don't need to risk my life for supplies that I don't need. So when noon arrives, I snuggle deeper into my tree, popping an ice chip in my mouth and waiting for the cannon or two that will mark the Feast casualities.

BOOM!

Okay. One, about three minutes after noon. That's expected.

BOOM!

A second, okay, so just three of us left. That will be an interesting showdown.

BOOM!

Wha-what? I'm in the Final Two?! I'm in the Final Two!

"Grandma!" I squeal, losing it for a bit, jumping up and down and almost falling out of the tree. I cheer and swing from one branch to another in excitement. I quiet down a minute later, but I give myself that time to freak out.

"Grandma, shoot, Grandma, I'm coming home!" I chorus so loudly that whoever else is left _has_ to have heard me, but I don't give a flying frick. They'll want to wait till tomorrow for the grand finale, but still. That just means that I have more time to prepare! That just means that I have time to enjoy my last hours in this wretched arena before I get to go home and run into Grandma's arms and bask in the District 5 sun, which is so much warmer and more comforting than the vapid beauty lingering too long in the skies of this accursed arena.

I have a celebratory feast (haha puns! I think to myself), eating most of my food excitedly. I'm hyper, and I start jogging around the jungle and doing jumping jacks to work out some of my energy. When that doesn't work too well, I start shooting arrows into trees and at animals for target practice to warm up my skills. I haven't practiced in two days, so I'm a bit shaky at first, but after the first two arrows my aim is better. I collect all of the arrows at the end of my sessions, only losing one, and then I huddle in my tree. Night is falling. Now I have the long wait to see who died tonight.

Finally, midnight arrives. I've dozed off from time to time, and eaten a bit more, and danced around a bit more, and cried in joy a bit more. And now I will see who my final opponent is. I really hope it isn't Serephina. Cephas has gone crazy, I know that since I saw him running around one day recently, screaming for blood. And Chen and Holly are both weaker than me, I could take both of them and vanquish them.

First up is Cephas. That's nice? This next face will seal my fate.

Chen's face glitters in the evening sky, and I curse profusely. So I am facing Serephina Manchas, the first female in the history of the Games to ever score an 11. I may be screwed. But I try to keep up the mood. I glimpse Holly's face before the sky falls dark.

Tomorrow I will be going home. Tomorrow I will vanquish the Manchas-Beast, and I will arise Victorious.

...

 ** _Inventory and Location of Remaining Tributes:_**

 _Serephina Manchas: Bow, 9 arrows, spear, medicine, pack full of food and water, and all 5 packs from the Feast. At the Cornucopia._

 _Caitlin Theardie: Dagger, Bow, 9 arrows, crackers, energy drink, orange ice cream, wagyu, mushroom soup, and iodine. In the southern jun_ _gle._

 _..._

 **A/N: GAAAAH! It is now Caitlin vs. Serephina! We're pretty much at the end and I can't believe it! Here are the obituaries:**

 **5th: Holly Burnett, 16, District 8 Female - Chest cleaved open with axe by Chen Evoncurst, District 7 Male**

 **I loved Holly's backstory, and she was one of my favorite underdog characters, so that's why she lasted as long as she did. Her flashbacks were always so fun to write, and everyone seemed to at least be neutral with her, so I thought it was good to keep her around. But she was in an arena with tributes who scored 8-11, and she scored a 6. She also was dehydrated, starved, wounded, infected, and tired. She had no realistic chance. I am sorry to the entire Burnett family, and hopefully you can move on from the loss of this wonderful girl. Thanks to Skyheart033 for Holly!**

 **4th: Chen Evoncurst, 17, District 7 Male - Stomach sliced open with sword by Cephas Gold, District 1 Male**

 **I have to be honest. Chen was my Victor for half of the Games. I realized recently that he was just _too_ perfect to be Victor. Also, to be honest, that's why I had Bethany make it out alive; so she and Chen could have a romantic get together after realizing who the other was some time down the road. But I thought that would just be too cliched. Instead, seeing Caitlin or Serephina interact with Beth? That will be more peculiar and interesting. But back to Chen. He was an amazing tribute, and I loved his personality and quirks. I am so sorry to your father. Now he is alone. Thanks, Bluffs, for this amazing dude. **

**3rd: Cephas Gold, 18, District 1 Male - Arrow to the chest by Serephina Manchas, District 2 Female**

 **Someone had to go wacko, and Cephas turned out to be the one to have a mental explosion. I never thought Cephas would be my Victor, but I always knew that he would make it far. He sort of became the villain of this story, and that was nice. His character slowly evolved from usual rich 1 kid to thoughtful, cocky, talented murder to crazy wacko serial killer. Sorry to your parents, Cephas! Thanks, ThomasHungerGamesFan, for this fun villain. :)**

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES/KILL LIST**

 **Now, for the remaining tributes and their kills (bold means alive, unbolded means dead):**

Cephas Gold - Walter Inlaen (Assist), Camillie Montegro, Olivanna Sanatorium, Catherine Spark, Chen Evoncurst

Natalia General - Bison Seville

Dameon Xaine - Burlap Thomasson

 **Serephina Manchas - Calix Jackson, Kiera Waters, Andrea Matches, Cephas Gold**

Cameron Spark -

Catherine Spark - Hailea Himalayan

Christopher Tidesworth - Kiera Waters (Assist)

Kiera Waters - Theodore Anderson, Christopher Tidesworth

Emmer Schuliare -

 **Caitlin Theardie - Dameon Xaine, Emmer Schuliare**

Steale Boeing - Bianca Catalano (Assist), Cameron Spark, Steale Boeing (Himself)

Olivanna Sanatorium -

Chen Evoncurst - Holly Burnett

Bethany Taylor -

Burlap Thomasson -

Holly Burnett -

Calix Jackson -

Andrea Matches -

Bison Seville -

Bianca Catalano -

Theodore Anderson -

Hailea Himalayan - Natalia General

Walter Inlaen -

Camillie Montegro -

 **Mutts - Walter Inlaen, Kiera Waters (Assist), Bianca Catalano, Bethany Taylor, Emmer Schuliare (Assist)**

 **QUESTIONS**

 **1\. Serephina or Caitlin?**

 **Thanks so much for being on this special ride of a story with me. We're almost at the last hill, the finale battle, and I cannot believe that we're finally there. You've all been supportive and I love you all for that. Thank you for the great characters and feedback. They all have a place in my heart, like you all do. :)**

 **There are still plenty of spots left in Blow Me Over: The 22nd Annual Hunger Games SYOT. Go submit if you have the time please! It will be even better than Oceanside. True Careers are in play now, making the Games more exciting. :) Our soon-to-be Victor will be highlighted in BMO. :)**

 **P.S. Sorry that this was a bit rushed, but I wanted to get it out ASAP.**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Tracee**


	30. Day 12: Sanguine: The Finale

**A/N: And here you have it. The finale of Oceanside, the finale of the 10th Annual Hunger Games, the finale of my first SYOT. Enjoy. Thank you for sticking through this with me. Afterwords, there will be a chapter or two of epilogue, and then this story will officially be over. :(**

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"Tomorrow I will be going home. Tomorrow I will vanquish the Manchas-Beast, and I will arise Victorious."_

I knew the moment that I woke up that the Games would be ending today, over a week and a half in. The sun stopped rising once it hit that perfect sunrise point in the sky, and the arena was bathed in hues of orange, pink, but especially red, bright, bloody red that made the sky look as if it were bleeding. The sky wept tears of blood, and my excitement faded. I was facing Serephina Manchas today. I might not survive this encounter. The finality, the reality, of that statement is sinking in as I stare at the frozen sunset wavering on the horizon. These Games were simply that, games, until today. I've coasted by, hiding and making two very easy kills, one snipe, one mercy kill. Serephina's surely taken out around a half dozen, and all of them ruthlessly and gorily. Serephina is the stronger one between us. That just means that I need to work harder today to make sure that I survive.

I prep my bow and arrows, not wasting any arrows by firing practice shots. I curl my fingers around the bowstring thoughtfully, and then jump down onto the forest floor. I start walking in a random direction. If these Games are ending today, no use in hiding any longer. I'd rather find Serephina myself instead of being driven straight at her by mutts or a natural arena disaster, like an earthquake or tidal wave. I stalk through the jungle, arrow nocked, bowstring pulled back, eyes roving for Serephina. Hell, she might be in the other jungle right now, but I need to be ready.

My thoughts wonder to thoughts of home. When I get home, I'll be heralded as a hero. I'll be the first Victor out of 5 ever. My name will go down in history books, and the District will praise me. Wretched Askia the Capitol Mentor will finally get the boot, and Grandma Thelmy will finally get the treatment she deserves, since I'll have access to enough funds to actually make the doctors come to her. Grandma Thelmy has enough money to pay for her own doctor, but she's such a stubborn old lady. I just giggle at the thought of her in her wheelchair, yelling at me as I walk into her house with a physician. She'd have a fit. Ah, Grandma Thelmy. I cannot wait to get home to you. We'll have a ball.

Thoughts of people to return to bring me to remember my best friend, Ria. I haven't thought about her, or home, or Grandma, or really anything besides the Games, since the gong, and I feel a little guilty about that. I can just imagine her watching the others fall one by one, watching me kill Dameon and Emmer. The reality of that also hits. My family and friends have watching me murder other teenagers. That's just wild. I can't really process that fact yet. It'll set in when I get home probably. I'll realize that I killed Dameon, and Emmer, and, if things work out right today, which they shall, I will have killed Serephina.

After thirty minutes of circling through the jungle, the Gamemakers give me a colorful hint, sending a plume of teal and hot pink parrots shooting nearby in the direction of the Cornucopia. I nod, understanding, and set off at a brisk jog towards the edge of the jungle.

When I get there, I pause. I see her, bent over, studying something in the dunes. She disappears behind the crest of a close dune. I scramble into the branches of one of the jungle trees right on the edge of the forest. I ready my bow, steady it against the tree limb, and wait for her to get back in my sights again. The next time her head bobs up, I will be ready to take her out. The next time Serephina Manchas raises her head, she will be dead.

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, District 2 Female**_

 _"I wanted to be remembered."_

I'm up before there's even a haze, a glint, of the sun peering over the horizon. I take one final look at the artificial stars twinkling above my head from my spot in the canopy of a jungle tree. Then I heave myself down to the forest floor, landing quietly. I look down at my amassed supplies. Six packs, one that I got from the Cornucopia when the Strong and Mighty alliance was still strong and mighty, and five from the Feast. There is also my various weapons: a dagger, my bow and arrows, and my beloved spear, along with extra arrows and the Bowie knife from Cephas's Feast backpack. I can't carry all of this. The packs I easily leave behind after drinking lots of water and eating copious amounts of food. The sun glimmers over the horizon as I debate over which weapons to take.

I finally end up sliding the Bowie knife in my left boot, and then I sling my quiver over my shoulder, holding the bow tight in my hands. I look down at my spear, and my memories flash back to using almost the same spear in training to rip apart a dummy. The entire training center fell silent. That was so long ago, it feels like. It feels like that was years ago. The glory and the respect from the moment bubbles through my veins, and I awkwardly slide my spear into my quiver, strapping it down with strips of cloth from one of the packs after I cut it up with the Bowie knife. A disjointed, sliced apart black _2_ on lime green cloth holds down my spear.

Lugging my weapons, the journey out of the jungle is a bit slower than I would like, but it's still early morning. My eyes study the skyline as I reach the treeline of the northern jungle. The sun has stopped midway through its ascent, and it looks like an overripe tomato has exploded against the sky. The bright hues of red highlight the few clouds chugging overhead, giving everything an ethereal, almost primal look. The temperature rises a bit. Or maybe that might just be me. It feels like we're almost inside a volcano, minus the sizzling, deprecating lava that would have killed me by now.

I tromp through the dunes, pushing thoughts and wonders and similes out of my mind. This is the moment I have trained for. All those days locked in the cellar, punching a punching bag, throwing spears, shooting arrows, doing reps with heavy weights, going on long runs through the city square. All of that hardwork is mounting to this moment, where I will put everything I know to the test, on the line, to regain honor for the Manchas name.

One thought slips into my mind as I search the dunes around the Cornucopia relentlessly. In training, I thought that I would want to be remembered. Guess who will be remembered? The twins from Three. The lovebirds from Seven. Maniac Cephas from One. They'll be remembered for years to come, but that won't do them any good, will it? Because all five of those people are dead. Being remembered is a lovely thing, but being heralded, being adored, being _honored,_ well that is quite something different. That is what I want. Deep down, this isn't just about honor. It's about proving to myself that I am strong, and proving to myself that I can do what my brother couldn't. Maybe when I emerge from this arena, people won't look at me pitifully, as the sister of Garry Manchas. Maybe they'll look at me with honor instead, because my Victory will outweigh his loss, and I won't live in the shadow of his death any longer.

I've been thinking too much. Being pensive and unattentive is never a good thing when you're in the finale of the Hunger Games. I get myself back on track. I'm now by the dunes near the southern jungle. The sky is frozen in that eerie sunrise, the volcano sunrise. I almost expect Aenea Chariton, the Head Gamemaker, to bring up a volcano out of the ground soon enough to drive us together, complete maybe with some running dinosaurs to complete the primordial effect. But none of that has happened yet, so I wait patiently as I scour these dunes for any sign of Caitlin Theardie.

Soon enough, I spot a flash of orange hair in the jungle. She's hiding, so I hide too, pretending not to see her. I hunker down behind a dune, and crawl over to the next. I peer around it. I can barely see her through the leaves. She's crouching in a tree, and the tip of her arrow, strung in her bow, barely peeks out from the leaves. If I hadn't seen her hair, I would have never known that she was there. She must think that I'm still behind the other dune.

So, what to do? Do I attack while she's watching somewhere else? If so, how? Snipe her myself with my bow? It's too clunky to fire from behind this dune and stay hidden, and by the time I get the arrow nocked and I'm standing, she'll have spotted me, and my advantage will be null. Sneak up behind her and take her out with my spear? Too risky. I don't want to snap a branch and have her easily snipe me with an arrow out of the tree.

Bait her? That's the best plan. I scuttle away from the jungle edge, hauling myself through the dunes on my stomach as not to be seen in case she's looking at the other dunes. Once I find a strategic place, a few large driftwood logs piled up next to one of the dunes, I squat down, spear in hand, and then I scream bloody murder at the top of my lungs, hoping to attract her.

I hear her hurried footsteps across the dunes, and I know that I've gotten her.

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"The next time Serephina Manchas raises her head, she will be dead."_

I sit in wait for five minutes. The caramelized, never changing sunrise sky explodes across my peripheral vision from time to time, suddenly coming into better focus. But most of the time, pretty much the entire time, I am staring relentlessly at the dune in front of me. What is she doing? Sleeping?

Then I hear the strangled scream, echoing through the empty arena. It is only then that I realize that the birds are gone, that the bugs are gone, that the little jungle deer are gone. Even the ocean sounds far off, superiorly distant, as if it's behind a thick titanium wall. All there is is the earsplitting screech, feminine and loud, that can only belong to one Serephina Manchas. I grin and leap from the tree.

Maybe the Capitol likes me more, and they've injured me to make it a more even fight. Maybe she just accidentally cut herself and she's screaming because she has a low pain tolerance. Maybe she's being plagued by mutts, and they'll do my job for me. Maybe the scream is an illusion the push is towards one another.

I barrel thoughtlessly over a dune, and then I realize my mistake as I watch an arrow arc through the air, hurtling towards me. It hits my shoulder, and I howl as the arrowhead crunches against my collar bone. I stagger, looking around wildly for Serephina. Where the hell is she?

Another arrow digs into my left calf, and screeching bloody murder I turn to see her standing behind me, nocking another arrow. The bitch lured me! How couldn't I have noticed?! The adrenaline's really putting a buffer that I can't afford to have between my mind and body.

I fire my arrow, but I'm shaking. It hits her right foot, digging into the boot but probably not even scraping her skin. She pulls the arrow from her boot as I hurriedly nock my bow, backing away. Soon I'm backpedaling full speed as I pull back the bowstring and fire. This arrow swerves through the air, scraping her side. She curses profusely and chases after me.

For the sake of speed, I turn my back to her, zig zagging as I run so she'll have a harder time of catching me. I catapult myself over a boulder and dive through a patch of tall grass on the top of a nearby dune. My foot snags on the roots of a bush as I head down that grassy dune, and I tumble face first down the dune, becomign coated in sand. And arrow and the strap of my quiver snap, and the six other arrows spill out across the sand as I keep rolling. I hug the bow close to my chest. At the bottom of the dune, I finally stop. I stagger to my feet just to feel another sharp pain, this one deep in my side. I wipe a grimy coat of sand from my eyes to see a smug looking Serephina standing on the top of the dune.

"You can't run forever, 5!" she hollers at me as I tumble forward, scrabbling to pick up my arrows. She doesn't fire at me again, as she's already used three arrows. She circles around to trap me, lofting her spear. I pick up three of my arrows and my bow and run as fast as I can, faster than I've ever ran in my entire life. I crash across the dunes, stumbling in a random direction. I soon find myself sprinting down the last dune and sprinting out onto the beach. I nock an arrow as I run along the coastline, my feet slapping in the wet sand as the ocean tickles my boots. I glance back, but do not see Serephina. Where is she?! My mind starts guessing places, and I whip around constantly, looking here, looking there, looking everywhere. I'm having a meltdown, and I begin to whimper. Where is she?!

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, District 2 Female**_

 _"I hear her hurried footsteps across the dunes, and I know that I've gotten her."_

The end is here. I watch Caitlin, drenched in sand and crazed with adrenaline and instinct, sprint away from me, blood dripping from her calf, shoulder, and side in small rivulets. She leaves an easy trail to follow in the sand, a sizzling road of dark ruby red droplets in the tan, gritty sand. I don't follow her directly, though. Instead I circle around, heading towards the Cornucopia, which is where I feel she might be heading.

The whole primordial vibe the sunrise was giving me has been solidified. Caitlin is the terrified prey animal, who has enough fight left in her to escape if she gets lucky. I am the prowling predator, sharpening my claws and biding my time as my prey either becomes lulled into a false sense of security or breaks, screaming and running around like a headless chicken. In the end, the predator always wins. Maybe not right away, but the predator always, always wins.

The Cornucopia looks like a bloody golden ring sitting in the tan palm of the sandy arena, reflecting the oranges and reds of the ever present sunrise. No bronzey-orange haired girl sits inside it, calm or rocking on the sand, knees pulled to her chest. That's when I spot the flitting movement out on the beach, and I run behind the Horn so I can observe it from a hidden place.

She's running down the beach, about two hundred feet away from me now, the distance growing. She runs on the edge of the water, the salty ocean lapping at her heels. Her orange hair glimmers in the sunset, and I think she would look rather pretty if her shirt wasn't stained with blood, and if she wasn't gradually slowing down until she's staggering along, tired and weakening.

I walk lightly out from behind the Cornucopia, my boots crunching in the sand as I stride towards her. She's about a quarter mile away now, out of earshot, just walking, barely moving, her hands gripped tight around her bow. In my hands is my spear, and the Bowie knife's still tucked in my boot just in case. I've left my bow in the Cornucopia. I don't need it now. I don't need it to finish the job.

My pace is a little quicker than hers, and the distance between us gradually lessens. Two girls, walking down the beach, one with fiery orange hair, the other with long, wavy blonde hair. Two girls, strong and able. Two girls, one tall, one shorter. Two girls, one older, one younger.

Two girls, armed with weapons. Two girls, one of them about to be dead.

"Caitlin," I call out softly once the space between us is about fifty feet and we're nearing the end of the western beach. She twirls, arrow nocked, and for a moment I think she's been playing, that I've made a mistake. But the blood is pouring out of her side, her eyes are distant and unfocused, and her arms shake, her arrow slipping from the bowstring. I stare at her as the bow slips from her hands, and I make the final move.

It's just like the training center. I throw the spear. It goes in her chest, and the entire thing pops out on the other end. There's a big, jagged gap in Caitlin's chest, just like there was with the mannequin. And the entire nation falls silent as Caitlin Theardie falls to her knees, blood leaking from her mouth. The cannon fires, jarring me from the haze I've brought myself into, watching this girl, my adversary, die.

BOOM!

...

 _ **Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female**_

 _"Where is she?!"_

The moment the spear leaves Serephina's hand, I have 10 seconds before I will bleed to death. Time slows down astronomically.

 _10._

The spear twirls like a beautiful dancer through the air, light glinting off of its point as it arcs through the air. Ria always wanted to be a dancer. She was never half bad. I hope that someday Ria will get to be a ballet dancer like she always dreamed.

 _9._

The spear is midway through its journey now, still coming straight at me, and I'm too tired, too shocked, too everything to move right away. If this is anything like the training center, this should be messy but quick. I hope that someday the spear will hit me and kill me, and get this over with.

 _8._

The point is a foot away from my chest, closer, and all I can think to do is blink and breathe, blink and breathe. I hope that someday humans will find better things to do than simply blink and breathe in the face of fear and pain.

 _7._

The tip smashes into my chest, and my mouth forms a perfect O as the shockwaves of pain kill almost everything else but my thoughts. I hope that someday pain will be destroyed, so no one ever has to feel like I do now, a spear slicing into my heart.

 _6._

The spear's halfway through me now, the thick metal shaft hurtling through my chest, ripping tissue, pushing past bones eagerly. The point juts out of my back, and I feel like the mannequin from the training center. I hope that someday kids in Two will learn arithmetic instead of how to throw a spear clean through another person's body.

 _5._

The spear's mostly out of my body now, and my knees are buckling, little painful whimpers escaping my lips. I hope that someday someone will be able to die without feeling fear, pain, and adrenaline like I now do.

 _4._

The spear collides with the sandy ground, and I'm crumpling fully, eyes turning glassy, bodily systems slowly shutting off like a light flickering. I hope that someday someone will be able to fight death and win the battle against it.

 _3._

Blood trickles out of the corner of my mouth ever so slowly, and everything starts becoming fuzzy except for the goddess of a girl standing fifty feet away, no, closer now, she's walking towards me, taking her time with it. I hope that someday this girl will get over the trauma of murdering people like me.

 _2._

It's like the Bloodbath all over again. I'm a useless heap on the ground, bloody and near death. The countdown flickers above my head. A second left. A second left until I die. I hope that someday these Games will end, and the slaughter will never ever again happen.

 _1._

Pain. I hope that someday it is gone.

 _0._

I hear a cannon. I hope that someday my cannon will never fire.

BOOM!

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, District 2 Female**_

 _"It's just like the training center...the entire nation falls silent as Caitlin Theardie falls to her knees, blood leaking from her mouth. The cannon fires, jarring me from the haze I've brought myself into, watching this girl, my adversary, die."_

I stare at Caitlin's crumpled form as the trumpets blare their fanfare around me. She seems so much smaller, so much frailer, so much weaker, in death. She is no longer the prey. She is just a girl. I am no longer the predator. I am just a murderer.

"Serephina Manchas, you are the Victor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games!" Toulouse and Faustina shout into the arena together, their voices cheery. They're no doubt pleased with this ending of the Games, pleased with the jagged hole in dead Caitlin's chest, pleased with my bloody spear lying behind her, pleased with the fact that I have just killed another innocent girl.

But then Caitlin's body changes. Her long orange hair changes to short, choppy blonde. Her slim, short frame turns to a tall, bulky one. In front of my now lays Garry Manchas, my slain brother, a knife, courtesy of Calla Espenson, protruding from his forehead.

"I did it, Garry. I did it," I whisper, and I feel a little disgusted with myself that I am actually happy to have won the Hunger Games.

The hovercraft descends. I pull the Bowie knife out of my boot and climb up the ladder myself. I'm not injured, I'm not hungry, dehydrated, tired, infected, on death's doorstep like so many Victors are at the end. The doctors bring me to the room they've set up for the Victor, monitor my vitals, and let me sit there. There's no point in knocking me out and fixing me up; there simply isn't anything there to fix.

Honor has been restored. The Manchas family name may now step out of the shadows.

And now I will be remembered. The names Garry and Serephina Manchas will never be forgotten, not as long as some soul still haunts this Earth.

...

 **A/N: And there you have it. The end of the 10th Annual Hunger Games.**

 **2nd: Caitlin Theardie, 15, District 5 Female - Spear to the chest by Serephina Manchas, District 2 Female**

 **Caitlin! You were a lovely girl, and I had you making it to the finale almost from the beginning. You were a wonderfully fleshed out character and I loved writing you, but you were never exactly the Victor I wanted for this story and for my future SYOTs. I hope I made your final moments emotional enough to sate those of you who were rooting for her to win. Cait, you were strong, but not strong enough to best the girl who will come to be known as the Headmistress to the nation of Panem. I'm sorry to Grandma Thelmy and Ria. Both of you are strong women, and I hope you can work together to persevere and work through the grief of losing your granddaughter/best friend. Thank you so, so much, Platrium, for this wonderful young woman. She was beautiful and inspiring, and I hope her ending was satisfying for you.**

 **VICTOR: SEREPHINA MANCHAS, 18, DISTRICT 2 FEMALE! 5 KILLS - CALIX JACKSON, 9M - KIERA WATERS, 4F - ANDREA MATCHES, 9F - CEPHAS GOLD, 1M - CAITLIN THEARDIE, 5F**

 **Serephina! I love you so much, darling. You were a finalist from the moment I got your form, dear. You had the drive and the exponential skills to make it to the end, and you weren't just a bloodthirsty Career. You didn't revel in killing, but you weren't that stereotypical "oh I'm being forced into the Games, killing is atrocious!" Career. You were perfect in every way for this story. As for my future SYOTs, you will become the Headmistress, the tough, hardass lady who runs in Academy of Two and is talked about a bit in Blow Me Over. You have brought honor to your family and to your District, and neither you nor Garry with ever be forgotten, my dear. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Manchas and Jewel, for having a Victor in the family. She'll need your help recovering from these Games. Congratulations, strange and proud of it! Serephina has won, and you have the first Victor ever out of a tracelynn SYOT! Enjoy having her as your own, and don't be hesitant to brag and spread the word! xD**

 _ **Final Placements**_

 _ **24th: Bison Seville 10M - killed by Natalia General 1F - Bloodbath**_

 _ **23rd: Calix Jackson 9M - killed by Serephina Manchas 2F - Bloodbath**_

 _ **22nd: Natalia General 1F - killed by Hailea Himalayan 11F - Bloodbath**_

 _ **21st: Burlap Thomasson 8M - killed by Dameon Xaine 2M - Bloodbath**_

 _ **20th: Theodore Anderson 11M - killed by Kiera Waters 4F - Bloodbath**_

 _ **19th: Walter Inlaen 12M - killed by snake-seal mutts/Cephas Gold 1M - Day 2**_

 _ **18th: Dameon Xaine 2M - killed by Caitlin Theardie 5F - Day 3**_

 _ **17th: Christopher Tidesworth 4M - killed by Kiera Waters 4F - Day 3**_

 _ **16th: Bianca Catalano 10F - killed by jaguar mutts/Steale Boeing 6M - Day 3**_

 _ **15th: Kiera Waters 4F - killed by Serephina Manchas 2F - Day 3**_

 _ **14th: Cameron Spark 3M - killed by Steale Boeing 6M - Day 4**_

 _ **13th: Camillie Montegro 12F - killed by Cephas Gold 1M - Day 4**_

 _ **12th: Andrea Matchs 9F - killed by Serephina Manchas 2F - Day 5**_

 _ **11th: Olivanna Sanatorium 6F - killed by Cephas Gold 1M - Day 6**_

 _ **10th: Bethany Taylor 7F - killed by giant serpent - Day 7 (still technically alive, Avoxed)**_

 _ **9th: Emmer Schuliare 5M - killed by Caitlin Theardie 5F - Day 7**_

 _ **8th: Hailea Himalayan 11F - killed by Catherine Spark 3F - Day 9**_

 _ **7th: Catherine Spark 3F - killed by Cephas Gold 1M - Day 9**_

 _ **6th: Steale Boeing 6M - killed by himself - Day 10**_

 _ **5th: Holly Burnett 8F - killed by Chen Evoncurst 7M - Day 11 (Feast)**_

 _ **4th: Chen Evoncurst 7M - killed by Cephas Gold 1M - Day 11 (Feast)**_

 _ **3rd: Cephas Gold 1M - killed by Serephina Manchas 2F - Day 11 (Feast)**_

 _ **2nd: Caitlin Theardie 5F - killed by Serephina Manchas 2F - Day 12 (Finale)**_

 _ **1st/Victor: Serephina Manchas 2F - Day 12**_

 **Thank you guys so much for reading and supporting this project. It means so much to have near 200 reviews on a simple SYOT I've written. It really means the world to me that you guys all liked this story and set away time in your day to read it.**

 **Sorry if you were rooting for Caitlin, but that's just how the cookie crumbles. What do you think of Serephina? Excited to see her post-Games lifestyle and how she gained the infamous nickname "the Headmistress?"**

 **Please review with your thoughts on this story as a whole since we only have the epilogue left to write. :)**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Tracee**


	31. Epilogue: Crowning and Fates

**A/N: Our final epilogue chapter :( Wrapped in here is Serephina's Crowning, along with what happened to the families of every tribute. I did not include her Victory Tour because I thought that saying what happened to the tributes' families would suffice. We will also see her background more in BMO. Enjoy! :D**

 **P.S. The lovely maiakenn has drawn Serephina at her Crowning for us! Here is the link (delete the spaces and the dashes between com, FFN was not letting me paste it normally):** **w w w . deviantart . c-o-m / art / Headmistress - Serephina - 640160322**

...

 _ **Serephina Manchas, 18, Victor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games**_

 _"I looked like a deity, a goddess, a ruler, a queen, a Victor._ _"_

"Darling!" Triala squeals, rushing at me and hugging me tight. "Finally, I have a girl to dress up! Suiting up the boys can just get so trying!"

I chuckle lightly. The prep team has scrubbed the extra skin and callouses from my body, cleared my pores, combed and treated my hair, and done my makeup. Triala has a bag with my outfit inside it. She grins as she pulls down the zipper and pulls away the green plastic bag to reveal the dress.

It is simply beautiful. A strip of shiny red fabric, the exact color of the sunrise sky during the finale, curls around my right shoulder, holding the dress up. The same piece of fabrics swoops down my back and curls around my waist. My upper body is covered in a gossamer-like fabric of orange color that looks like the orange from the sunrise, and also like the color of Caitlin's hair, strangely. Then the skirt, which stops just above my knees, is made of one part sparkly blue to represent the ocean, one part sparkly green to represent the jungle, and one part shiny silver to represent my weapons, like the bow and the spear. Triala explains all of this breathlessly as she clamps two silver bracelets with emeralds around my biceps, and then two more silver bracelets with sapphires around my wrists. To finish it off, she puts sparkly silver stilettos on my feet. Thank god Mother taught me how to walk in heels, or walking across the stage would be painful.

Instead of walking out onto the stage like I did at the interviews, however, Triala leads me underneath the stage. Clay, my Mentor, and my prep team wait there, by a raising platform that will deposit them on the stage. We hear Toulouse and Faustina walk onto the stage above us, and the crowd roars energetically. I take a calming breath. I'm actually excited. The closing interviews and Crowning are always interesting.

"First up, Miss Manchas's prep team: Ecclesia Miakoda, Warran Opendago, and Kiko Ettess!" Faustina and Toulouse yell together. I watch as Ecclesia, Warran, and Kiko rise up on the platform. They're all dressed in matching outfits the warm golden color of my hair. Good for them, to enjoy the fame.

"Next, Triala Keventiks, the head stylist for Miss Manchas!" Triala, dressed in a stunning dark green and gold number of her own creation, waves goodbye before she rises away up to the stage. Then it's just Clay and I left.

"The Mentor of our newest Victor, Clay Ross, Victor of the 6th Hunger Games!" the voices of Faustina and Toulouse echo above our heads. Clay squeezes my hand before he steps onto the platform. Now it's just me, and the Avox standing in the corner, in the shadows. They'll talk for a couple of minutes with Ecclesia, Warran, Kiko, Triala, and Clay before bringing me on, so I find myself staring at the Avox.

She seems oddly familiar. She's staring at me with equal parts hate, curiosity, respect, and pride. I narrow my eyes as I study her features. Blonde hair. Nice height, well muscled. This girl is a District citizen. Where have I seen her?

"Come closer, Avox," I bark.

She does, stepping into the light, and I know who it is.

"Bethany?!" I gasp. "Aren't...aren't you dead?!"

Bethany opens her mouth to respond but remembers, suddenly, that her tongue is cut out. I watch her fumble with the tiny nub in her mouth, trying to produce words, before giving up. I stare at her. I'm about to start interrogating her when voices roar above me.

"And welcoming Panem's newest Victor, SEREPHINA MANCHAS!"

"Come to my apartment later. Good luck, Bethany," I say hurriedly before leaping onto the platform, which is starting to rise without me. I right myself just in time, and then the lights are beating across my makeup-covered skin, my now perfect teeth and eyes glittering, my nails glistening. The crowd is deafening, and I look around at the stage. Toulouse and Faustina sit in comfortable chairs, and Clay, Triala, Kiko, Ecclesia, and Warran all sit on a large couch in the back of the stage. Then there is the giant plush chair waiting for me, about five feet away from the chairs of Toulouse and Faustina. I wave at the crowd confidently, which sends them into further uproar. Then I prance over to the chair and sit down, grinning genuinely.

"You seem very excited, Miss Manchas!" Faustina exclaims.

"Please, just call me Serephina!" I shout excitedly, and the crowd reacts violently, chanting my name so loud that I can't hear myself think. Once they quiet down, Toulouse speaks.

"Why, the nation loves you! Let's get to the point, and watch the recaps!" The crowd cheers.

Two Avoxes wheel out a giant screen for us to watch the recaps from, and a huge projector screen is slung across the wall above the stage so the crowd in the building can watch the recaps comfortably. And the millions at home in the Districts have their screens full of the recaps, with a small box in the upper right hand corner with my face in it so they can see my reactions. I put on my most dazzling smile as the words _The 10th Annual Hunger Games_ fill the screen in arching golden letters. I take a deep breath and steady myself.

It begins with the Reapings. Cephas, Natalia, Dameon, Kiera, and myself all leaping to the stage. The Spark twins stepping on together, weeping. A sea of other emotionless, shocked, angry, or crying kids that I can't remember much. Ten minutes of the parade, watching myself dressed as a Greek goddess rolling down the promenade. The palominos stomping down the street, pulling Dameon and I down to the City Circle. Then right to the scores broadcast. They highlight my monumental score of 11. They also make sure to put extra time on the scores of Cephas, Catherine, Caitlin, Steale, Chen, Bethany, Holly, and Hailea. Seeing Bethany's face gives me a bit of shock. I'm sure now that that Avox underneath the stage was her. But that's quickly pushed from my mind as they show my interview segment, me keeping the crowd guessing and screaming in this very auditorium. The crowd screeches at that part.

Then we're in the arena, and the mood changes. Everyone becomes seriously, ready to eat up the Games.

They do a quick flyover of the arena. The jungles, the beaches, the oceans, the pools, the bars, the hotel, the dunes, it all rushes past, and I feel the salty breeze against my skin. For the first time in this interview, I'm scared.

The countdown is shown, and I watch Bison, Calix, Natalia, Burlap, and Theodore fall. Special time is spent on the death of Calix, since I killed him. After the Bloodbath, we watch the other alliances and tributes spread out, and they spend time watching me on sentry duty. Then they show the snake-seal mutts, and Walter falling into the sand, and Cephas finishing him. These events only happened two weeks ago, but it feels like they transpired eons ago.

The midsection of the Games flashes by to me. Dameon, dead. Caitlin did kill him! Christopher, dead. Bianca, dead. That Steale boy did her in indirectly. Kiera, dead at my hands. I remember that dilemma well. Cameron, dead. Again, Steale? And I thought that boy was just a Uriah Matherton type tribute. Camillie, dead. Andrea, dead, killed by me. They spend time watching Andrea bleed out in the jungle as her friends weep, trying to fix her, and my heart hurts a little. Seeing Bethany's distraught face, and knowing that she's alive...I killed one of her friends. I didn't kill her boyfriend, but by winning I might as well have. Same thing with the 8-girl, whose name I still cannot remember for the life of me, and I feel strangely about that.

After Andrea's death, things slow down a bit. Olivanna, dead, and my conflicted face, purposely missing in my shot at Hailea. Next, Bethany eaten by the serpent. I almost scoff. How the hell is she alive if she was destroyed like that?! Do they just recreate Avoxes in the looks of past tributes to torment us Victors? They also show Emmer's death. Wounded heavily by the serpent, and mercy killed by Caitlin. That kid was always so annoying, but he was Emmer. He was probably the closest thing I had to a friend in that arena, and I thank him for that.

Top 8. Catherine slaughtering Hailea. Hmm. I always thought something else killed her. I guess the Spark girl lost it just a bit at the end, with her screaming and all. Cephas killing Catherine, me refusing to do so. I look almost cowardly, but Clay said I can play that off as respecting and not taking out someone when they're unable to fend for themselves. Neither of us said it, but we both knew it was cowardice and a bit of indignation that had me not kill Catherine, same thing with Hailea. I'm happy that I didn't make it to the end to face either of those little kids, or I might have given myself up so they could make it home.

Steale, hanging himself. That boy was sure an interesting specimen. He'll be the talk of the Capitol for a while, I bet.

Then the Feast. Chen chasing Holly into the Cornucopia Field and killing her in the mouth of the Horn. I always thought that they were allies. Well, they were, this recap has proved that. Did Chen break like Cephas? Or did he just become so desperate that he would kill his own friend to survive? I don't blame him. Chen's soon done in my Cephas, and then they spend a great deal of time watching me fire the arrow into broken Cephas's chest, killing him.

Then it's just Caitlin and I. They show the both of us preparing to fight, and I get a lump in my throat. She was so excited, hyped. She thought she was going home. She had hope. I crushed that hope, broke its neck. But it was me or her. Me or her. I repeat that over and over as the events of a couple of days ago play out across the screen. The girls chasing, the arrows flying, the blood leaking, the screams echoing, the dunes not moving, the ocean lapping, the Horn glistening, the spear arcing, the chest gushing, the little girl crumpling, the cannon booming, the trumpets blasting, the announcer shouting, the Victor slowly grinning.

The recap ends with my name plastered across the screen, and then the attention turns back to me.

The questions flow, and the responses gush from between my lips. I don't even think, just pronouncing articulate sentences as answers that almost always include the words "honor" and "respect." Clay, Toulouse, Faustina, and President Snow all seem pleased with my answers.

President Snow slowly walks out on the stage, a warm grin stretching across his face. In his hands he holds a little velvet cushion, on which sits the Victor's crown, _my_ Victor's crown. The Crowning is here.

The crown is made of silver metal, to symbolize the silver metal of my spear, of my bow, of my arrows, of my dagger. The biggest gem is a jagged ruby, which sits on the front of the crown. On the right side, there is an emerald to represent the jungle. On the left side, there is a sapphire to represent the ocean. And there are two smaller rubies on both sides. I made five kills. The five rubies represent those kills. The crown is truly beautiful, sturdy but complex and stunning, just like me.

As President Gaius Snow places the glimmering crown on my head, I ponder over the shape of the ruby. Instead of nicely polished and rounded like the other gems on the crown, it is jagged and uneven. As the crown settles perfectly on my head, I realize what the shape of the ruby is, and where I've seen it before.

The ruby is in the shape of the hole my spear left in Caitlin's chest.

...

What Happened To The Families Of The Tributes?

CEPHAS GOLD: His parents used their money to buy a larger house, and they adopted several orphans to try and replace Cephas, and they forbade their children from volunteering even though they trained them just in case.

NATALIA GENERAL: Her family would miss her, and when her parents had a fourth daughter, they named her Natalie in her honor. Her friend Velvet who she volunteered for admitted her love for Natalia after her death and married a girl named Odessa three years after Natalia's death.

DAMEON XAINE: His brother Dy'lan was destroyed by losing his brother soon after losing his fiancee, and he committed suicide. His younger sisters did not volunteer, and Baylor, Bailey, and Mr. and Mrs. Xaine lived a nice, athletic, rich life in District 2.

SEREPHINA MANCHAS: The Manchas family was restored after Serephina returned home Victor. They became one of the most affluent and philanthropic families in 2, and the Manchas would help found and run 2's Academy for decades. Jewel did not volunteer, but did become a prominent trainer at the Academy. Serephina would meet a man soon after her Victory named Roman Anniston, and they would marry soon after the 12th Hunger Games. They would have no children, and that year Serephina became the Headmistress of 2's Academy and gained her infamous nickname, the Headmistress. She was harsh and cruel but produced stellar Career tributes from her facility. Serephina would take Avox Bethany back to 2 with her and use her as a personal Avox for her family. She would have four children, none of which became tributes in the Games. Two became Peacekeepers, a third a candlemaker, and a fourth a Capitol model. The Peacekeepers were named Garry and Kate, the candlemaker was named Gaius, and the model was named Clarissa.

CAMERON & CATHERINE SPARK: The Spark parents were crippled by the loss of their children. Mr. Spark lost his job and Mrs. Spark started working part time. They were grief stricken for the rest of their lives and never truly recovered from the loss of their twins.

CHRISTOPHER TIDESWORTH: Christopher's grandmother would pass away soon after he died from old age, and no one else was left to remember him.

KIERA WATERS: Mayor Waters was very depressed for a matter of years, and resigned from being the Mayor of Four soon after Kiera's death. Her family eventually would recover, and Mr. Waters would become the Mayor again soon after the 17th Hunger Games.

EMMER SCHULIARE: Five missed the spunk and annoyance of Emmer, and his parents grieved in their own way, discovering a new algorithm and naming it in his honor, calling it the Emmer Algorithm.

CAITLIN THEARDIE: Grandma Thelmy would live for an astounding twelve years after Caitlin's death. She was very cynical and rebellious, and would help restart the fuel of rebellion in Five. Five was aggravated that Caitlin had come in 2nd, and they all were riled up and thirsted for a Victor. Ria never did become a ballet dancer, but she did teach her seven daughters and three sons how to dance. Her eldest daughter was named Caitlin.

STEALE BOEING: Mrs. Boeing eventually recovered after losing her distant husband and son, and she would remarry three years after Steale's death and have a little girl who she would name Ropa, in a sort of tribute to her son's final act.

OLIVANNA SANATORIUM: Liv's friends back in 6 started up a special Hunger Games club in her honor. Her family would always love her, and they were able to recover soon after her death, as they were happy people who couldn't stay depressed for long.

CHEN EVONCURST: Chen left a legacy in 7 as being one of the revolutionary lovebirds. His father grieved and attempted suicide twice before his older brother took him in and helped him heal. Chen's friends missed him terribly, and he was one of the most memorable tributes out of 7 ever.

BETHANY TAYLOR: Bethany left a similar legacy to Chen. Her parents and the Krenson's escaped into the wilds to live with the Wanderers. Yetta and Panema were adopted by a young couple who could not have kids and who treated them well. Bethany was Avoxed after being removed from the arena so Snow could get info about the Wanderers out of her. She would become Serephina's personal Avox and would move to Two with her and live there for the rest of her days, attending to the Manchas-Anniston family.

BURLAP THOMASSON: The Thomasson's would recover rather quickly from losing Burlap. His sisters would both work in the factories like their mothers and live rather normal, unremarkable lives, also Flannelette did name one of her sons Winston Burlap.

HOLLY BURNETT: The Burnett family grieved tremendously, and they were all very depressed by Holly's loss. Carla would go on to have a daughter named Holly, and Leah would become very hardworking and be one of the most influential people in changing 8's economy for the better after the rebellion.

CALIX JACKSON: No one missed Calix, as he was an orphan who lived on the streets.

ANDREA MATCHES: Andi's mother Natalia was motivated by her death to get custody of her other daughter Mia, who was in the care of her abusive father and step mother Greta. Natalia worked for a year and got one of the best jobs in 9, and then took custody of Mia without anyone objecting. They would live happily ever after. Greta would have nine children with Mr. Matches would die from a tumor, and she would have to care for them all herself.

BISON SEVILLE: Gazelle and Mr. Seville recovered from losing Bison, and Gazelle would grow up to be one of the best rodeo riders in 10.

BIANCA CATALANO: Her entire family would miss Bianca whole heartedly, and the Mayor's son was a little sad not to have his possible fiancee still on the market since she was dead. Watching her die set her family straight, and they became less snooty and prideful.

THEODORE ANDERSON: His entire family grieved at his loss, and his brother Brett, who he volunteered to save, would grow up to be a respectable, hard working man and a father of four great young children, one of which he named Theo.

HAILEA HIMALAYAN: The Himalayans lost their jobs on the farm after Heidi gave her unflattering Top 8 interview for Hailea. Mrs. Himalayan finally got out of her stupor and got a good job to support herself in the heart of 11, while Heidi moved off to a rural area alone and wasted away in the clutches of alcohol.

WALTER INALEN: Walter's large family would miss him, and they would be as kind as ever.

CAMILLIE MONTEGRO: Wendie and Camillie's parents would miss her forever, and Wendie took the garden very seriously after Camillie died in the Games. When Wendie got older, she would buy a large plot of land on the edge of 12. She would grow vast amounts of local produce and would sell them for low prices to the poor District people. Wendie would become one of the richest people in 12, and also one of the most respected and most philanthropic. She would have two daughters, and she named one Camillie and one Wednesday in tribute to how they used to garden on Wednesdays, or "Wessdays!"

...

 **A/N: Now this is over. My heart hurts so bad. I loved this story so much, and I love you all so much too for reading it, accepting it, and loving it. You guys were all truly amazing and gah I want to cry! This is my first completed fic that isn't a simple 100 word drabble collection or a oneshot, so I'm grieving like the families of the tributes xD I hope this chapter was satisfactory, and Serephina will DEFINITELY be highlighted in Blow Me Over and other future SYOTs. Once I get a big enough group, I might start writing a collection of stories about my SYOT tributes interacting.**

 **What did you think about the recaps/Crowning? Thoughts on Serephina and what happened to her? Thoughts on Serephina and Bethany's interactions and what happened to them? Thoughts on what happened to the families of the other tributes? Thoughts about this story as a whole? Thoughts about how well/how badly I did with your tribute(s)? Thoughts of how sad you are on a scale of 100% to 100% that this story is over? :(**

 **I would love to hear from submitters who haven't reviewed much or at all. I love you all so much. Your feedback means so so much to me. You all are amazing people, and I'm so sad to move onto the next SYOT. In two days, it will have been exactly 6 months since I started this story. That's half a year. This story has been a huge part of my life, and I thank you all for being part of it.**

 **For now, I say goodbye. Onto Blow Me Over, and further. For the last time on this story... :(**

 **Until Next Time (Whenever that may be),**

 **Tracee**


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